Dream Catcher
By Gary Wittmann
September 22, 2003 ©
All Rights Reserved.
The cool breeze blow across my naked back while lying in bed,
I watch the Dream catcher as the feather spin overhead.
My eye’s lids grew heavy, changes of life, from my long day.
The Dreams filter into my mind, the center of the gray.
As I roll back and forth, the dreams active—nightmares—I’m awake.
My dreams must take a rest, to lay down the catcher, a break.
The next evening, alone through the window, the moon glisten,
Dreams are a powerful force in my life, meanings to listen.
