Dream of 8th-9th August

 I dreamt I was escaping my house in Meare

And all the faces of good cheer

All the good and all the bad,

I ran, I ran down to the river 

Down the slopes

Landsliding way

And across the rotten planks

Of building sites gone astray

And flood in green stagnant water

All of the memories to me were short

But the flow

Of the river was fast and keen

I tried to hold on to rock faces

While avoiding the neighbours eyes

And not wishing to fall into bad graces

The judgement of others on the divorce

The swallowing river dragged me with it

The red gills of seaweed or ferns up the canyon walls

Did Meare ever have canyons? I can't remember at all

And above I saw bridges where the people walked

But I was trapped beneath them, I couldn't escape

The flow carrying me further along in time