Last Night I Dreamt of an Old Friend
And the light was soft
And he was happy
And a cat walked into the room
And the light was soft
And he was happy
And there were many books
**
You can get away with lots of thing—but dreams follow you home.
Old happy friend, you with your good bookshelf. Good old dream archive.
**
There was, as I now recall some discussion about the Bodleian Library.
I’m trivia minded even in dreams. I mentioned Thomas Bodley’s fortune came from his wife whose first husband (deceased) made his money in pilchers.
**
Friends. Dreams. Books. Herring adrift in the stacks.
