Upon returning to the short piece Dream Baby, I am pleased to see how recounting a simple dream, which was pleasant enough itself, leads to a passage of memory, which then transforms itself into a kind of poetic, universal love story. While I am the hairy old uncle and grandfather, I also embody the uncles and grandfather of my childhood, their whiskery familiarity and smell. In a sense, the dream acts as a pebble dropped into a pond, and the succeeding two paragraphs are rings radiating outward. And now, years later, we discover another ring; and these words are like leaves, or bubbles, on the water.
~
[ 1983 ]
Categories: Annotations and Elucidations
Tags: Babies, Childhood, Dreams, Leaves, Memory, My Grandfather, My Uncles, Water, Words
William Michaelian 