My daydreams are
sugarcane caught on a spindle
woven into a knot
and released to childhood.
The crone has pursed lips
her tongue is hungry for the palate.
She carries an umbrella
because I dream of day.
The matron snores lightly
window pressed to her cheek.
She wears all black
and mourns for the children.
The maiden grows lint on her dress.
She is barefoot:
her knees are knobs
because her harvests are a not.
Jellybeans dance a ritual
around a puddle of milk
their movement spill
color into my daydreams.
© 2010 Johnny Tan
