Sandwich Dream

They came to me in my dreams

The gray lapping onset of flotsam

On the shore – whirls, strands of color cemented

In cool, glass marbles

An echo of my soul

Pulled out by the strings -

Tubes of hiccupping neon cast

A haphazard shadow under the

Noon sun – she smiles at me

Before taking a bit of a fat, yellow

Sandwich in her hands – whispers,

A phantasmagorical pull into the willow-whipping

Torrent of fallen, brown leaves -

Thousand of the flurry its own scratchy climax -

Dizzying fury – falling, naked and alone in

A pile of leaves -

Just before I wake up.