I Dreamed You Dreamed

I dreamed you dreamed that we had met
Upon a sullen, empty day,
Spent mostly with Pinocchio,
A place where young kids used to play

Upon your forehead lay your wrist
For afternoons you’d strike a pose ;
I dreamed you dreamed in riddles; yes —
And so do I now, I

Suppose

The Grove

I woke. My people turned to trees.
Then wondered, if I had the chance
Could I, too, with the cold winds learn
  to dance?
 
It is the grove that gives us life.
The sun, the soil that we share,
The tears of those who watch o’erhead,
  their left-by mulch, subconsciously aware —
 
I sleep; my people growing tall.
Now am I just too fast to feel
The slower dance that’s only dreamed,
  but far more
 
  real?

Swingsets (I)

Like a ghost, I wander,
There’s my father sitting on a bench,
My mother talking to
Two other women in their once-bright
Summer dresses,
While my sister, acting cool,
Is lounging on the grass
Out with the big kids
Over by the woods.

Like a spirit, hovering,
I hear the squeaky sounds of kids,
Like sneakers on a gymnasium floor,
My brother and me,
Dressed for swimming,
Swinging ever higher,
Letting go in perfect arcs
Of weightlessness that last
Until we land.

Only with clouds gathering
And wetness in the air solidifying
To we begrudgingly head back to bicycles
And cars, my family walking back
Towards a cinder-block house
My sister furtively looking over her shoulder
At the tall dark-haired boy,
My brother looking up ahead at
The water tower,
And me wondering why
My father and mother never walk

Side-by-side

Patterns

My mind is always seeking patterns,
Symmetries that I can find;
Looking for associations
Quaint or colorful or kind —

All day long I’m seeking patterns,
And at night, through dream and mare;
Just to find, whene’er I see them,
It’s my mind that

Put them there

Somewhat Midnight Hill

Far from the place we used to live,
Wandering rivers find the sea;
There, on a somewhat midnight hill
Stands a young couple, you and me,

Far from the gray mistakes we’ve made,
Foundering ships and trips on wire,
There, on a somewhat midnight hill,
Watching the smoke float ever higher.

Oh, for the now appearing stars,
Indigo sky and velvet blue,
There on a somewhat midnight hill,
I can be I, and you can be you,

Far from the flags and voices raised,
Ocean heard breathing, constantly:
There on a somewhat midnight hill,
I can feel you, and you

See me

Flowers Cannot Fix It

You have this dream, that she’ll be there
At dinnertime tonight
And, if you make it perfect
Everything will be alright

But flowers cannot fix it
Cannot make this dream come true:
Don’t worry friend, she’ll smile again —
But it won’t be

With you