Mutual Spirits

I climb through dense brambles to hide. Light flickers to find me, I don’t feel safe here, and run on. I’m in a dark house and move back and back through the rooms. I hear him asking someone if they had seen me. I curl up tighter into my hidden place under old clothes. I feel him closer. I don’t see him. I run again and find a disconnected darkness. As I cover myself with leaves, It all begins to fade, The darkness, the details, the uneasiness; I awake, and sit up clearing the cobwebs of the dream out of my sleep. I reach out for my husband. He raises to his elbow and touches me. His sleepy voice says, “Oh good, you’re here — I’ve been chasing after you, And no one would tell me where you were.”