I had a dream.
Of happy hearts and dusty feet.
Of wild plains and holding calloused hands.
Of setting suns through campfire smoke.
Of easy laughs and simple clothes.
And I heard a stumbling guitar melody.
It was a gentle song, at the end of hardship.
My heart was full, but my stomach grumbled.
It was a beautiful dream.
A dream where you wake up, and it clings to your memory's shadow.
A dream where you squint up at morning sunlight and ask -- why?
I saw children smiling in my dream.
Their teeth were clean, and their eyes twinkled.
And their clothes were so dusty.
There was dust everywhere.
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