The dream was so vivid.

I remember being moved.

But when I went to retrieve it
it was not there.

Tried as I might
I could not  bring it back.

Its absence was something I mourned.

So real to me 
in the middle of the night
and then just a memory
of something I cannot remember.

Strange it is to be alive
and to lose such matters.

I would not wish such
on people I care about
nor on anyone else
who loves to dream
and then looks back to ponder.

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.