I DREAM OF A POEM

Sometimes I dreamed of a poem

her appearance in my dream incredibly clear

She held my hand as in childhood

I held my pencil head so tightly and hard

that the point broke

and I had to muster the courage to borrow her sharpener

I dreamed of a poem playing hopscotch

while I was turning a rope

its other end tied to the thin trunk of a jujube tree

I dreamed of myself spinning the rope to bring up dust

like a crazy calf, my belly protruding and my back arching

I see her closing her eyes and jumping higher and higher

In my dream all things were glowing

but as soon as I turned my back they dimmed

Sometimes I would glow in a poem

Once waking up I would find

I could never retrieve anything from my dreams i3woGgxZhLq8PscnR6+X8N1j6rbwUh2RcybwjONnDTqr4ZO8kvliTUkiLbHwl2xb