Friday, March 7, 2014


… you hear me?  I never think of you at daytime,
So why,
Do you keep sneaking into my dreams, time
Never quite declaring yourself, nor
Your intentions.
Once, as a baby I gently cradle in my arms, then
An innocent neighbor in a house painted white on the inside,
As I looked out the window, peering into the dark,
Remains of last winter’s snow still on the
(Yet I knew it was autumn by now.)
A flock of large birds just landed on the dark ground
And I could just make out their silhouettes.
Straining my eyes, the birds seemed as gees for a split second
Before moving closer; then I saw them in their peacocky
Blue-and-green sparkles of proud males, tottering in the yard, their
Heavy bodies in contrast with their graceful feathers.
I called you to the window: Look!
Your shoulder was warm against mine; I was drawn to you.
Reluctantly saw you
Walking away.

Lost in daydream for a few days after, it all melts away eventually;
The dream, the stirring.
No remnants, not even a trace.
I know darn well the distinction between dream and reality.
My days are busy, my
Routine is firm.

So why,
Tell me
Do you keep sneaking into my dreams?

1 comment:

  1. I really like this one, Rinat... (susan)