Day Dreams

View PDF

I. 

Man of her house, her rooms 
Are haunted by dreams. 

Leavened by cool morning light, 
Loft become sanctum, he lolls 
Reading, bolstered by pillows 
Wadding the headboard like lush moss, 
Novel in his left hand, her 
Mirror in his right. 
Crosslegged on the floor beside 
Him, she watches reflected fingers 
Lift and section hair, pinning it 
Back lacked into tortoise-shell combs. 

II. 

Man of her dreams, she stalks 
Her dreams, looking for you. 

Hedged against the sliding glass, 
Camellias, deflecting warm sun 
Like his large metal shears: 
The whole tangled garden faces 
Her, writing at his desk. 
Him in the roses, pruning.

III. 

Man of her dreams, her dreams
Are haunted by houses. 

Autumn sun finds the west bay
Window late in the afternoon,
A flushed grandstand play in last
Brightness: green lackluster carpet
Suddenly awash, colors 
Pulsing in the prints she’s 
Grouping for the long front hall.
Behind her in the furthest shaft
Of sun—his rapid-fire clicking
Of computer keys, his smile
Across the room. 

Man of her house, her dreams
Wait haunted by houses, her rooms
Loom, haunted by dreams.