In the dream, silent, steady people
had come out to guard a lake.
Not many, no more than a dozen.
The lake wasn’t large, but protecting
it was important.  This happened
at night, when snow was falling
on snow and on the black water.
I returned to this scene many times.

Surfacing out of sleep, I lifted
the dream with me.  I still sensed
those silent guards present, their circle
of power around some watery place
in me that needed protection
cradled in the belly of night and snow.


Thomas R. Smith




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