Just One

Spring dreams reverberate with the call of the fox and the cry of the hawk and the song of the peepers…

Dreams of a barren desert landscape, and in the distance—twin shimmering cities.

Dreams of a hollowed out tree, out of which revolves the full and attentive face of an owl.

Dreams of being handed a thousand dollars, (cash wrapped in lined paper) in the hallway of the highschool, outside the science labs, with the promise of monthly patronage that leaves me weak in the knees with humility and relief.

Dreams of two handheld mirrors, lying on a surface, side by side.

I went to sleep with an uncomfortable effervescence in my chest, checking to see, should this be my last, had I any regrets. Just one: The neglect of joy.

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