There is a recurring dream or reality about a door
in the forest, I knock on the door I try the handle to open it
but it is looked, yet I sense there are beings of the past
reluctant to open up and reveal the truth
Whose Truth? If you ever hear all will be revealed
There is nothing after death…why should there be?
Death means no life and nothing come after except annoying
dreams that make the hopeless into despair.
the cruelties of dreams are about tomorrow when you know
there will be no this is not so, the planning of planting potatoes
keeps us sane and the plums on the tree but I do like the taste
of new potatoes as I like the aroma of a young girl not yet
ready to be plucked