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Strangeland Dreams

Jumping on a second chance

As the barren land runs

Drier.

Always in your head,

The strangeland dreams,

And you think they’ll save you

Where the perpetual sun shines.


Really, it’s a single day

That shaped you

So, you say …

Everything running

Back to that,

Run right back,

When the door was

Knocked and opened

And it seemed like,

Just for a moment,

That the world had

Opened up

For you,

All for you.


Three years became

Three weeks,

A flash in the pan,

One quick burnout,

And the wanderer

Seeks new land

Yet again,

But perhaps

This time

With shadow hand

In hand.


by Rick Ansell Pearson


Rick Ansell Pearson is from England but has travelled widely, living in various countries. He now resides in New Mexico. His fiction and poetry can be found in various anthologies and magazines.


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