Wasted Dreams
By Stacks Poets
Published 1 January 2021
by Meredith Pitt
So perfect, high rolling hills
covered in heather and gorse;
that faint coconut smell mixed
with peaty earth.
Sky so far it becomes the
future itself.
Yes, it is possible, I opened
a window and let a little
out; just enough to be
dry and warm.
There are always more
with you, yes the iodine
smell will go soon; it
follows me.
Irresistible nautilus paths
paved with gold.
Sleep on your left ear,
you may even gather
them back, they’re a
little tight, here.