Thresholds
By
Gill Hobson
2012
Between reality and imagination, waking and dream,
My body enveloped by architecture, warmed by late afternoon light.
Rest, beckoning sleep,
A quiet room, a trusted place where dreams can happen, will happen.
Glimpsed images re-assembled, passing time told through light,
Soft, soft focus. Reverie.
Here, at the threshold, worlds collide.
Gillian Hobson
Gillian Hobson
Gillian Hobson
Gillian Hobson
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