Dream

by Karen A. Freeman

A black rose,
perfect in form,
materializes before me.

I know this rose cannot be
real.

Fear thrusts my heart to my throat.

I step forward
to grasp the rose
a promise of death.

The rose fades away as I reach it.

A dream,
revealing that,
fear embraced,
cannot exist.

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©1982 Karen A. Freeman

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