Dream Sequence


full-length feature —
he comes to me
each night.
Every night.

In patchwork scenes
from waking-life…
across the table
in a restaurant,
by the water
at the beach,
in an elevator
at the museum.

Extras walking
back and forth,
standing, waiting.
I don’t recognize them
or him.
He is the news anchor,
the clerk at the store,
Bill Clinton?
I laugh and turn over
in my sleep.

“Where are you?”
I ask.
“Are you OK?”
“Are you safe?”
He responds
as if reading a
script I wrote myself.
My words, my answers…
drop meaningless
on the pillow.

I can feel him —
his hand in mine —
and smile
before waking fully.
Small comfort
in the quiet
since his passing.

Poem from the archives, while I work on finishing my book. Words and photo, ©2008, Jen Payne.

Image: We Live in Her Dreams, Miriam Schapiro.

2 thoughts on “Dream Sequence

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