Tinsel dreams

The smell of tinsel dreams waft
from the chimney
candy cane sticking to our fingers

smoke reaches for something
swirling above
She asks me to dream
in colors she recognizes

peppermint bleeds in two
I twirl her between red/white fingers

dreams with texture.

© 2021 | Phillip Knight Scott

Written for dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille #142 – tinsel

Published by Phillip Knight Scott

My name is Phillip. I am a Tar Heel born and bred and watch every Yankees game I can. I'm still searching for my own TARDIS. My first novel, "The Alien in the Backseat," is available now! https://amzn.to/3oVCG77

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