Dog-Dream Afternoon - For Joshanne Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

Images (unfathomable as guilt)
of age-old peat bogs clogged with silt
where mists prowl, grey as the fur
of vague shapes that move, yet never seem to stir,
and then are irrevocably lost
in reality ethereal as a ghost.

Pictures swirl in the flames that leap
in the fire blazing inches from my feet.
Reclining in warmth my daydreams keep
me from straying too far and perhaps too deep
into images in eyes of bottomless burnt umber
trustingly closed on my lap in fitful slumber.