Dreams I Hide
There are things I haven’t told you
Five of seven, I cross this chasm in a waking dream,
High above the tracks that sometimes bear
These antiquated steel beasts full of fury,
Diminished by time, and between
Dilapidated buildings of declining manufacture,
Submersed in the currents of yesterday. And then
When you ask, lying there beside me,
I begin to measure like minutes, the passing of days.
Seasons take up the cardinal positions of a clock face,
The year revolving like a shadow on a sundial.
And all the while I watch
The sun in its downward trace
Or the moon, its skyward race,
As the sky kaleidoscopes in mysterious ways.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
And I’d know exactly what to say.
I’d tell you how I see August give way
When the lingering warmth melds to smoke
And cool, crisp air laced with oak
That smells to me of Autumn pastels
Of a sun-risen sky that seems to remember
The earthy tones of dried leaves underfoot,
The crackling footfalls of September.
But a hundred thousand thoughts catch in my throat
And, in that moment, instead of finding,
I’ve lost you. Somewhere on these cold
And dampened streets. These winding
Retreats that at their ends seem to hold
The chill of a winter afternoon
That slips into evening much too soon.
And the moment of silence hangs in infinity
Like a dragonfly caught in amber. I’m held
In awe, as deep shades of sunset meld
Into night. These velvety storm cloud remains,
A product of these late Spring rains.
Like my sheets still covered in your scent,
The color stays for only a moment.
Leaving behind, as the second hand leaves in its wake
A hundred degrees and midnight.
How something so unique could feel right.
The smell of dissipating heat,
The sound of waves as they meet.
Gold, lit cables that frame the night sky
Rise and fall overhead
As summer rushes by.
These are dreams that I’ve read:
A hundred thousand severed threads.
And then, in the early morning or deep, deep night
Lying there not asleep and not a wake
I feel, resonance, in choruses of dark and light
Sung together, a reprise that time forsake
A chance to find my childhood lost
Somewhere here, where present and future crossed.
I don’t know why it is, I conceal this,
As the next moment pours in
Like shafts of light, the interrupting sunrise
And moments more, like a tidal din.
And this instance harkens some great emprise
And my traveled heart longs for a certain quietus.
Somewhere amongst all this wanton fuss
I’ve forgotten to show you what you inspire
And now I know when you inquire
Why finding a way to tell you is important.