I just got up and know already I
will have to take a nap this afternoon.
It isn’t that I didn’t get to sleep
or sleep for long enough last night.
The problem is I slept too long and dreamed
the whole entire time I was asleep.
I’d lost my way in a metropolis.
No matter what I did or where I went
I kept returning to an alley way
that stretched for miles with run down tenements
on either side except it was a street
in Italy. The road was granite blocks
swept clean and washed and ready for the day,
but it was noon and all the shops were closed,
and I was sliding down a tile roof.
If only I could grab the panther flag
I knew that I would find my way again.
But when I reached for it I found that I
was standing on a narrow mountain bridge
above a raging torrent far below,
and I just knew the only way that I
would live would be to jump. I hadn’t any choice.
I don’t know why. I simply had no choice.
The rotten timbers broke. I fell into a cave
or an Etruscan tomb. I wasn’t sure
just where I’d fallen. It was glorious.
Stalactites and stalagmites all were lit
within with golden light and all the dead were housed
in marble palaces. The streets were filled
with silent shoppers. It was Christmas. May.
The trees along the road were in full bloom,
and I was running in a marathon.
My bedroom’s dark and quiet, and I’m glad
that I am finally awake. The dreams
are gone. And when I go to sleep again
I hope I’ll have a dreamless sleep. I’m tired.