Seeing David Bowie in a dream

blank : no thoughts as sleep envelops me,

leading towards dreamland,

and I see a little figure singing words

I can not hear,  he mimes and dances

his hour with great abandon,

and the crowd is on their feat cheering,

dancing,

pushing,

trying to catch the eye of the little man

singing with such gusto on the stage,

but I can hear nothing but

the high pitched  wine in my ears.

I see sweat running down his painted face,

as he dances on stopping every now and again for emphasis,

while the crowd still heaves and screams, and I can hear non of it,

frustration rises, and I begin to sweat,

and wake up realizing it was all a dream .

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