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In My Dream, Father Is Defined by the Taste of Hills
In my dream, father is defined
By the taste of hills
A lonely figure taken in by dark
Earth, wordless, unmoving
My childhood goes by softly
Like little girls’ secret talk
Under warm cotton clouds
That little girl with rivers
Floating in her eyes
Saw a giant white bird
Half phenix hald eagle
Winging down toward my silent
Father, to take the remaining
Words out of his mouth
In my dream, childhood is defined
By the taste of bitterness
The sad house with sad
Furniture and sad relatives
Rearranging their sad lives
The girl reads the message
On the bitter wind
What’s lost in the past life
Has found its way back
In my dream, love is defined
By the taste of memory
Great fire born out of
Giant white wings
We are no longer afraid of
What may hurt us
Or how strong the wind and water
Will hit our father’s presence
He remains undisturbed
Unmoved like a nameless rock
:4/24/05
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