Wake In A Dream

• Mary Powter, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2011

The rich, red bricks unfold their body,
bloated with the stems of cornflowers.
They waddle gluttonously to the creek,
Then, fat with flowers, they cloak the banks.

The blue bottles stretch out and sleep.
They sway in sudden stupor and doze,
Their eyes like shutters closing in the sun,
Or wilted leaves beside these daisy chains.

The ‘V’ of your fingers spells Valeria roots,
That you pick, while you breathe in the clouds
Of iris smoke, and that breezy aroma
wafts from your mouth, with a cinnamon sleep.