Sunday, February 8, 2009

Dream Slowly Home

Today I am dreaming 
but slowly home,
my pillow so flat 
and my blanket so worn.
I feel the cold
that can be
that has been
and I shiver so
even as days grow 
and there is rain--
I wait for the snow.

Not long ago dreams swooped down.
Oh, it was Mardi Gras! 
Feathered Fat dancers
shook confetti over me,
all over the sheets.

I fast, 
but my dreams are slow.
These are the Lenten days,
the weeks of thin soup,
the feast of tight belts and
slow, trodding dreams: 
all painted black and white.

"Come on home!"  
My old dreams call,
but I forget and
I am forgetting
how to sleep
how I slept
and dreams...
these dreams!
The going home
is so slow.

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