i have a feeling
something terrible
is going to happen

theres this dream
an empty field of weeds
covered in dawnmist

a tablet sits in the mud
wrapped in wet tea leaves
but its wrong

“you’re next”
a dog barks from the treeline
i’m biting in to perfect fruit

the hem of my skirt
is wet from snow and torn
i trip on the fraying threads

a hidden sparrow chirps
the dog calls out again
and it ends.