One Saturday afternoon
I heard a scrap metal car
With an old bed that rattled
And a lamp like a star.

A driver man with his son –
they looked very fair
They said I should just jump in
And that I should not stare.

We drove onto a meadow
And stopped by a tree
All this time I was wondering
Where on earth can I be?

A woman stuck her head out
I had no idea from where
She said I should choose something
Maybe a pot or a chair.

The truck was full of rubbish
But some of it was good
I looked at it and touched it
In the end of chose a book.

The woman wasn’t foolish
She said it might just rain
Then handed me a parasol
And a scarf to warm my hair.

You can arrange it this way…
She uttered and disappeared
But I never cared for a moment
I was glad the meadow was cleared.

I read and read and fallen
Deep into a sleep
I have dreamt of so many people
They grew on me like weed.

And now I wasn’t on a meadow
But a big parking lot
and people held bags and bags of stuff
And then my scarf felt hot.

I opened up my eyes
And suddenly sat on a bus
The doors were locked and the bus moved
And everyone made a fuss.

Of course – there was no driver!
And me still reading a book…
I turned my head and suddenly
The idea has just shook.

I closed the book ever so quickly
And began to remember my name
My husband and our two children
I wished they stayed the same!

I rushed through the meadow slowly
But I could not move my feet
Until my duvet fell onto the floor
And I found myself in the sheet.

And then I woke up thinking
None of those things were true
No trees, no parasols, no meadows
Only me – the same but somewhat blue.

©Irena Revina

Photo Byrev on Pixabay

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