In the dream my mother had,
I was telling her about my dream
in which she was not my mother.
“I don’t know about dreams,” she said
“but get that out of your head.”
Who Owns Your Dreams?
Mourning Cloak
A mourning cloak on a cool morning
on a walk through the cemetery.
It is quiet but for whispered prayers.
She touches a headstone in the sun.
Her yellow skirt escaping the dark cloak.
Nymphalis antiopa, the mourning cloak, is a large butterfly native to Eurasia and North America. The immature form of this species is sometimes known as the spiny elm caterpillar which has a toxic substance in its hairs or spines that can cause a very painful reaction if you touch it,
These butterflies have a lifespan of 11 to 12 months, one of the longest lifespans for any butterfly.
My Octopus Dreams
Sleeping octopus — possibly dreaming. Image: Sylvia Medeiros / NPR
This month my dreams have been short
and with changing colors – like octopus dreams –
or what we imagine they are doing.
Both of us underwater, drifting, and trying
to wrap our arms around something stable.
Annunciation
After that March morning Joseph found out
that his virgin Mary was somehow pregnant,
he spent the rest of day alone,
walking, hoping his prayers would be answered.
They were not and would never be.
Poetic Obeisance
I bow to this shelf of poetry books.
These have stood the test of time,
though the poets never knew that,
and I will never know that either.
I can leave myself a shelf space.
