leaving the bathroom this morning
I saw covers pulled over his shoulders;
he wants to sleep a little longer
up early, I need solitude,
coffee and frequently a pen and paper;
there are things to sort
this morning I dreamt of you,
I have for years and
sometimes they've come true;
it worries and astounds me
he says it's indicative
of how much time
I spend on others;
too much, he says,
it isn't healthy
in the dream, you talked
from the opposite end of
a rotary telephone,
the hard black receiver
cupped your face like a hand
I sensed it was mine and
listened because its what I do;
you always have a lot to say
even in my dreams
you posed a jumbled question,
something that I couldn't hear;
while the line was still
I answered - unable to stop
words tumbled out like
the black numbers printed
on a dial plate, 1, 3, 7, 9
I looked down; the cloth
handset cord hung mid-air,
frayed and disconnected
like some discarded toy
children use for make-believe
indicative of
what it is
hrr 072608
