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Spider Crone

Dreamed 2019/12/20 by Wayan
for Stephanie Meyers


Halloween. Jungle. Olympic chill.
Find a path; head west, uphill.
It leads me all unwil-

ling into Crone Cabin. You must crawl
in that maw to face knob-knees. No doll,
no actor--squatted this dirt floor all

her century life. Leaf-shadows hide
her moldy spouse. They here abide.
Subsistence farm that did... subside

"Until the Moss had reached their Lips
and covered up their Names." I hiss
"Chronos, chronos." And chase

Exit. But the future-door's locked. Behind?
Moss has gagged the past-chink. Gone. I'm
trapped in the Shack of Time.

Brief uneasy talk with the Crone.
She wants me to clean her lair: "Begin
by wiping the cobwebs off" those low

oval windows--but one. She lives on
that one dim web. She's spidering slow.
Or was one, all along.

Dream sketch by Wayan. Click to enlarge.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

NOTE A FEW MONTHS LATER

Now, in the middle of the coronavirus lockdown, looking back at a dream I had just as the first viruses were scuttling into California unnoticed... I suspect a pun. Crone, Chronos... Corona. The plague that makes you moulder away... at home... forrrrevvvvverrrrrrrr.



LISTS AND LINKS: book-inspired dreams - forest - old age & Death personified - prisoners & freedom - spiders & webs - goddesses (Spider Grandmother) - Native Americans - mentors & guides - health advice - cleanup! - ink & feltpen dream art - dream poetry - Dickinson, Emily - Olympic Peninsula - Covid pandemic

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