Lifted

I am lifted by a memory from you. I am lifted into consciousness. A memory of the dogs running around a green-lit lawn reminded me of how I am alive.

I often forget my running conscious is alive (and well). A jolt overcomes my softened chest. The dogs reminded me of Connecticut. They were grieving the loss of winter and welcoming spring with lifted noses.

It is here I lay my head to rest for an afternoon nap.

The afternoon. It’s one o’clock. The hours are ahead of me for my soul to soak.

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