Dreams Of Mother’s Dreams By Robert Wilson

Mom and I were
daydreaming on my
grandmother’s front
porch that overlooked an
audience of lucid
green grass and
trees that
shimmered below
a crowded sky. Neither of us
spoke in fear
of interrupting that
flash of
felicity until I
asked her what she was
thinking about. As
cigarette smoke spilled from
her chapped lips to
the heavens, she simply
said “Happiness.” When she
asked me the same
question I replied
“Having fun.” Now, I
daydream about that
moment and how
the nicotine drifted
from my mother’s mouth
to envelope the
feet of God as He
was also
daydreaming
about the day she would
join Him. I just wish
that day didn’t
come so soon.

Robert Wilson is a writer and poet from Morgantown, WV. His writing is known for being dark, confessional, and cathartic. Robert's work has been published in San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly, Amomancies, Deep Water Literary Journal, and others. He loves coffee and pasta.

Robert Wilson is a writer and poet from Morgantown, WV. His writing is known for being dark, confessional, and cathartic. Robert’s work has been published in San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly, Amomancies, Deep Water Literary Journal, and others. He loves coffee and pasta.

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