O, dream!
that began with she and I
moving to the northeast or
somewhere equally as snowbound,
Driven by
tragic events involving her parents
we stood outside our not so simple
solid timber towering three-story house;
Me, daunted
by prospects of upkeep, this homestead
so far from town, she grabbed my
shoulders with earnest force.
She, resolved
in the statement, "You will have to shovel
snow from the driveway and probably plow
our section of the road." I shivered.
Suddenly,
her multi pitch eyes became mirrors and
on my face lay the weight of such a task.
(Awake, I relish the challenge.)
Driving in
circles around the town, I stopped
at City Hall to stand with two tourists,
their placard gawking frustrates my forgetting
The reason
for my trip, so I leave and cruise
that green grandfather of a Chevy pickup,
asphalt and winter gray, fighting the forgetting.
O, dream!
that began with she and I
moving to the somewhere snowbound,
why did I wake up crying?
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