Donibane

Last night I had a dream...

I saw your grey travelling bag on the dining-room table and a huge brown paper bag full of left-over fresh bread you used to collect from the top class bakers.

The house was somehow different but you had come back, with both a desire of peace and forgiveness... who has to forgive.. noone remembers...

You were surprised to know I was no longer free and you asked why... you finally decided to leave and take with you my soul and a few memories...

You shed a tear when I told you about my mother and our little cat. You said the house would always be open for Mum as always.. to which I said : which house ? When, always ?  and I had no reply.

Shall I always be locked up in my memories, looking for dreams... to tell the Ocean about.. and his answer will roll on and splash on the beach... drops of white seawater from the wave crest.