Like lover’s forgotten notes,
disturbed dreams fold
into night’s pocket. I wake
into another dark morning,
surprised I was still asleep.
It’s wearing to be aware
even in one’s dreams. The days
protective surety thins
and the ground falls away
into air. Too often I return
to you, who does not exist
beyond my desire for you
to exist. Like stepping
suddenly into a forest
clearing, each narrative
trace left from dream,
or memory leads me into
a present space. Not caught
up in past complications,
nor the fractal explosions
on the verge of occurrence,
I notice momentarily
the effulgent light along
The edges of the shimmering
leaves, and I am happy.
(January 15, 2018)
subtext 