When I wake in winter, to howling winds
a head of dreams still swirling, spins
my body aches forlorn, bury myself warm
sometimes half asleep, upon the pillow
fall back, softly deep
witness myself surreal
float, I walk or run through
strangest worlds, hurled through
time, I climb upside down
back out, from dreams – awake
eerily shiver, winter’s cold
to shake