Wednesday, September 4, 2019

In a Dream

                                     you asked me to go fishing on the snake river
                                     it was summer & life unbearably young

                                     now, you've been gone
                                     three years

                                     in a dream last night you called me
                                     by my childhood nickname
                                     a name you never knew

                                    it's everything knowing
                                    you've met someone
                                    who did

Image: Hamed khosroshahi


  1. Dear Teresa, I apologize for being tardy in commenting. There have been distractions lately. But I wanted to compliment this excellent poem. I believe it was T.S. Eliot who said poems begin and end in a place that is not quite conscious (I refrain from ""s because it's been so many decades since I read that). Considering our brains generate activity on many levels, I find it easy to believe they exploit some sorts of quantum coherence --I too am convinced of encounters in that magical multiverse.

    Also(Perhaps forgivable), Off-subject: I wanted to address your next poem withdrawn, 3 weeks ago, and posted briefly in early October, "The Black Dog". Title took me back to a hero of my childhood, Winston Churchill, who was hectored by depression --understandable considering what I knew of what he'd gone through-- which he called "the black dog that follows me". Many of us have seen the black dog, whether we were involved in war or not, and know it reflects the dark in us but has no malice of its own.

    1. Geo! I was thinking of you earlier this evening, before I knew you'd left a comment (perhaps another encounter in the magical multiverse) and I was wondering if all is well in your world. I trust it is. It's so good to hear from you. Thank you for the kind comment. I love that thought from T.S. Eliot.

      Re: "The Black Dog" I am also grateful for this comment. It is much darker than what I normally write (no pun intended) and I wasn't sure if it said all I wanted to say without filling in too many blanks for the reader. It's a fine line. I love your last thought: "it reflects the dark in us but has no malice of its own." A really beautiful way of expressing it.

      Thanks again for reading and commenting. It's always good to hear from you.


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