Every night, my husband wishes me “Sweet Dreams!” To which I occasionally respond with the wished-for contents of my night’s dreaming. And so, tonight . . .
“Sweet Dreams of Caterpillars”
My caterpillars are green and smooth and sport a little horn
in back that curls forward. As they saunter out, left feet, right feet,
then left again, their horns sway up and down, and back and forth,
marching to the different beats of all too many drummers.
“Sweet Dreams of Caterpillars”. Copyright © 26 February 2015, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.
Quilted Poetry 