Dream World

June 28, 1973 at 8:41 am (Once, Poetry)

I’m water and mist in the heat of the day,
my dreams in the night are solid:
turn-tossed till my bed is grass on a hill,
I feel your fresh body by mine.

When sleeping my dreams are colors of love,
the touch of your hand as you warm me;
blue from the sky colors your eyes,
flesh colors your arms close around me.

My dreams are as real as the warmth of the sun,
the cold of a lake in the mountains;
but when I awake the air is a fog,
and the lake fades to a fountain.