I was having such a nice dream this morning
I was skipping through deserted hometown streets,
the terrain more hilly, the bricks more red than I remembered.
There was a steeply inclined, wooded space between parking lots
and chain link fences, loaded with meaning and memories,
all deja vu from previous dreams. Sunburned by nightfall,
I walked for a long while, chilly without a jacket,
to an impossibly narrow Victorian two-storey.
It was lonely, but a pleasant kind of lonely,
filled with the anticipation of getting high
at a party where I didn’t know anybody.
On the balcony, thinking I was totally alone,
I closed my eyes and levitated a few inches off the ground -
it’s so easy to do in my dreams that I take it for granted now -
and when I opened them, there was a woman staring at me.
"You’re that lady from the news," I said.
But before she could reply,
"Your secret’s safe with me,"
I woke up with heavy legs.
I was having such a nice dream this morning.
* * *
Written July 2014.