Reaching in my pillow, <br />the sandman tries to glean. <br />In between the feathers are <br />the traces of my dreams. <br />In the morning we must tell of them, <br />while images hold their shine <br />Those not gathered with the dew <br />fade back into the mind.<br /><br />Bill Cantrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-between-the-feathers/
