waking from a dream.

Story by Sarah Marie Miller
Illustrated by Adele White
waking from a dream.
i wrote this a while back after waking from a dream.

“and you had belief?”
“mmhmm” she nodded.

“and where has it gone?” he wondered.
she stopped.

overhead was a dome of calm seas, spotted by a handful of white kittens lazily sailing eastward, bobbing along the tides. with an arm stretched to the west, her eyes followed a line surrounded by green. from far out on this line, a snake traversed hill and valley to reach her on the plain. it curled inside her brain, breathing “perish.”
she laughed, and patted her empty stomach.


“i do wish i hadn’t cried so much” sighed alice, as she paddled to the cupboard. she was looking for her friend jigsaw. she always liked to piece a puzzle when hungry.

and she was gobbled by the bear. sliding down the esophagus, she bumped into her right arm, reached up to tickle the insides. she was lurched back into the green world. “thank you for the ride!” she burst. “and it won’t be the last” decided the bear.
there were once trees here and more than anything she wanted to climb to the very top of one, just to see how small the world had become.

Sun Songs

Wishing you a beautiful day…

ortigia.
by: Sarah Marie Miller

skeleton sailboats have the wings of a dragonfly and they shoot

(buzzards across the sand)

sun is shrouded in salt and sees me through tear fogged eyes set in glass.
i am the smallest sailboat dripping bright blue perched on the horizon

teetering on the edge of this flat world of rock and salt water.
filling my nose and greeting me with seaweed stained rusted air.

“The feeling that you get [when you hear me sing], I get first.”

– Lauryn Hill