The Humble Rock Dove

Allowed to meet you at the bustling shore, finally, you were healthy. Super, popular-kid, rosy-cheeked happy, healthy and smiling. Slight craned back from reading so much, but positively glowing, in a way that made me so happy, despite, or maybe enhanced, even, by the fact you seemed not to recognise me. I could have been a sick or ill old man, dying in a rocking chair in the corner, asleep. But I wasn’t, I was standing, with the cold wind of indifference embracing my back, and your eyes unable to meet mine properly, I was ecstatic to see you in this, raised, elated state, denying anything dead or rotten. But then going for a deep swim among seaweed and hardly noticing taking on the appearance of a sea creature for a while, and still not recognising me (or caring to) as I was pulling all the sea moss and seaweed off you. After a while, the dream ended, but it was as though i had butted-in on one of your better dreams, so I was happy afterwards that I got involved at all.