the white horse
of my dreams
floats over the
milky fog.
a hedgehog drowns
in the cloud
where shadows
dwell.
a bat, an owl
are flying by,
an elephant
tries to walk through the wall,
crossing into
the other dimension,
the sleeping tree
in its dreams
dispersing gifts for the fog dwellers,
a pair of
fireflies for the hedgehog to find the jar
with raspberry
jam lost in a fog
meant to be
shared with a friend
over a cup of
tea, while counting the stars:
hedgehog to the
left of the pine tree
and the bear cub
to the right—
the white horse
is chewing invisible grass
while the
shadows prowls through the belly of the fog—
and then a dog,
a real dog, runs
into the hedgehog’s dream to save his day,
dogs are always
real, they are always there
to save the days lost in the fog, in dreams, in time ,
elsewhere
or to rescue the
jar with raspberry jam.
the bear cub’s voice
echoes the hedgehog’s name in the fog.
some say the
hedgehog gone maybe 4 steps, maybe a few
more
before he fell
in the river, in its flow—
it was flowing nowhere, following the Milky
Way,
past the white
horse chewing the invisible grass,
past the fog,
past the sleeping forest.
the hedgehog’s
fur soaked wet,
pulled him
deeper into the river,
further into the
Milky Way
suddenly, from nowhere, someone polite
gently touched
the hedgehog’s paw,
offered to take
him to the shore.
the hedgehog
thanked the gentle someone, who came from
nowhere
and disappeared
into somewhere,
perhaps
to rescue
another creature from the river
or
the white horse
from the milk of the fog.
the bear cub and
tea were waiting for the hedgehog at the bank of the fog
the bear cub was
talking, and talking, and talking
and the hedgehog
was counting the stars quietly.
one must be
quiet while counting stars
not to miss the
white horse
©5/3 2012 by Nina
K Orlovskaya
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