But when I opened my eyes

But when I opened my eyes
the green clifftop faded, the springy grass underfoot,
the bobbing cow-parsley tickled no more.
You had gone on ahead, bouncing footsteps on the trail,
hand hovering over shreds of dirty wool caught on the tiny fists
of barbed wire.
The expelled air rush of the sea below
underneath the wind.

But when I opened my eyes
I was anchored to the bed, encased in a stone boot
gasping for the wind.

A 3-minute prompt piece for the Cardiff Bay Writing group on facebook
Yes, from a dream, of going walking or hiking somewhere, waking up and not going hiking anywhere...