What Dreams May Come

A dream you dreamt.

It’s the one that surprises you at noon the following day.

Eating your sandwich or washing up the lunch dishes,

and it flashes, swings out of the blue and lashes you with a vision

that stops the chewing dead or lets the water run without you,

remembering what your mind showed you in your sleep.

Yes, you think, I remember that part of sleep, how it startled or pleased or saddened me,

made me feel something I’d not felt for many years about that place, that person, that event.

And you know you’ve somehow hit play on the record of that dream you’d have lost,

if not for the ability to replay it at moment, spurred by you don’t know what,

and you smile, or sigh, or react to it somehow.

It hits stop when it wants and falls it back into the dark library,

and you begin to chew or run the cloth around the plate again,wondering why it might have come to you like this.

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