In the morning,
the world came rushing in through my ears,
a taste of something toasting in the kitchen invaded my mouth,
sunlight from the hallway accosted my eyes
and the dream shredded.
But I want to hang on,
so I tease out the threads ...
I was walking in a bubble
Everyone else was walking in a bubble
some in pairs
The shimmering bubble lifting magically
off the sidewalk
with each step
or snow globes?
Is that how we cope
or is that how we give up hope?
Hey Hey Hee Hee get offa my cloud
Are they permeable?
Are they peaceable?
Are they permanent?
Without the flakes or glitter
Is it a flight of fancy
or a glimpse of our socially distanced future?
I’d rather sleep
than take a peep
at this dystopian dreamscape
where everyone is allowed to be self-involved,
by their seldom shared shimmering enclosures.
Catherine G. Tripp writes for grownups, for the curious, for those who appreciate wry humor. Her work has been published in Pilcrow and Dagger, Wingless Dreamer, Reedsy, and she has read her work for several Zoom shows in 2020, including the Mask Monologues, Coffee and Grief and Creative Caffeine. Her recent writings and blog posts have been insightful, fast-paced, evocative essays about current events, and thought-provoking memoirs about the tangled branches of her family tree.