What may be

I don’t dream any more.

But you have one

that reoccurs.

I don’t remember it all.

And carefully interpreted,

And concluded at the time I heard it,

it is not a bad

or sad dream,

for you,

Not about us.

You don’t want to talk about it now,

while we’re on a peaceful vacation,

Away from our home.

I fear

what may be

in your head

about us,

sometimes.

I have a hunch, though,

What is remembered

from one’s dream,

is what’s important for that person to know.

What I remember

about your dream is:

You’re in a vacant home,

Feeling homeless,

I’m not there.

But, we’re married.

The home is fancy

and nice inside.

You’re all alone.

You don’t know where to sit or sleep.

And we’re married.

You remember the

familiar,

reoccurring

angles of the roads,

Under a big magnificent sky,

Outside,

on your way to the vacant home,

Know you’re homeless,

And we’re married.

I don’t dream

anymore.

But, what I remember about your dream,

Just may be

what I need to know,

About us.