I wake this morning to a voice like a wagging index finger.  It harkens from some hazy dream space but is crystal clear in her critique:

“You had all day to work on it, but you didn’t, and now it’s a whole ‘nother problem today.”

Well good morning sub-conscious!

I understand the ‘it’ she’s referring to.  It is a work-related task that had to be tabled yesterday by no fault of my own.  It’s a minor issue and her criticism stems from misunderstanding.

So, this morning I wake to being wrongly accused of negligence by some dream-time hall monitor.  Hmmm….

Strangely woven between this dictator’s words are images of red hibiscus flowers.

Ok, I realize retelling your dreams to others can be yawn city.  Interpreting them ourselves can be dicey.  I’ll summarize here with a simple attempt:  go easy, cool your jets and stop to smell the hibiscus (or at least look, there’s no scent).

I’m 11 days from the deadline for my submission and I’m in the phase of having read the piece so many times the letters begin to blur.  I am gaining new appreciation for the economy of words by the sentence.

I’m thinking poetry…