what_dreams_may_come raze i flipped a switch to stir two sickly spotlights from their slumber. my eyes scanned the landscape for the same four-legged friend i saw the day before after the sun had gone away. no such luck. i caught a mouse scurrying toward the heart of my back yard, slipping into a space that seemed too small to hold anything larger than an ant. a thin fissure separating brick from concrete. it spent a minute or two in that hidden place, taking refuge from this unrelenting winter. then it peered out into a night my fingers flooded with weak light and fled, leaving me to wonder what dreams might move through the matrix of its mind when sleep sets in. 230316 what's it to you? who go blather from