A dream, in some dive
I dreamed that I went
quietly into a noisy bar,
they had nice wooden tables, for some reason,
and smiling people who I seemed to know
and cannot remember now who began
handing me their smiles, and I looked up
as I was doing these exchanges
of currency to see you
sitting at a quieter table
unaccompanied. I stuffed their handshakes
into a careless pocket, and I was
standing by while you stood up
spilling light, easy from the eyes
and words like warm wine
and I marvelled in the midst of dreaming
that all this was happening
yet again, without music or voice-overs
or just an airline person paging about an
unexpected transmission.
Perhaps I was making up for
the one time it happened, when
a woman at a table stood up
and became you, quicker than any dream.
I remember freezing, and feeling
first the discomfort, and the bitter last minute,
and missing the smile beginning on you.
The moment was gone
and there was nothing to write about after that.