By Lisa Lawrence

Clever sleep, hiding under my pillow, under the bed
I turn and toss, plowing the sheets, turning over the turf
of the day while pocketing seeds that resemble slumber
like words and thoughts for a poem to sow through
the dark night closing my eyes, making believe
I can find you, making believe you can find me,
clever one

Sorry mind that sprouts and grows even on this chilly
mid winter’s night, the only light cast from the shrinking
moon, sprouting daytime routines in what should be dreamtime,
dreamscape, blessedly occupied by intangible visions,
unfinished conversations, illegible sign posts, faceless strangers and
indiscriminate love affairs where one awakens relieved, replenished
from dreamtime

This menacing night becomes a duel between mind and body
love and hate, bliss and misery each holding the weapon close,
calmly awaiting the signal to draw, hoping to quickly and accurately
diminish the other’s position. The duel continues, reruns are frequent
I turn over, again, alive, well; perhaps too well I consider. Two AM,
longing for the taste of coffee, the warmth of the fire, my book.
I’m up

Lusty slumber tantalizes as soft snoring from both dog and Jim
bounce back and forth from up to down stairs. I listen and imagine
dreams within their bodies, whole worlds pass across their streams
of unconsciousness; doggie kibbles freely float in large bowls,
big meaty bones line the lawn, sticks throw themselves in the pond,
her favorite girl coos and rubs her hands all over our yellow dog’s back.
Dog dreams

Jim dreams of streams full of silver steelhead, brimming orchards,
happy successful daughters, giggling grandchildren, a wanting wife
I take my eyes off the page of the book I read while I dream of
dreaming of long horse rides on long sandy beaches, holding
my granddaughter close, my girls joyful in their lives, Jim is content
with it all and I have friends I can tell anything to.
I dream

Copyright Lisa Lawrence 2009