Why Is It That
Why is it that
in a dream, he found himself awake—
walking trancelike in a haze—
knowing someone he has never met?
So special.
They live;
They love,
and they are one.
Then, in a moment,
it all ends, and he is awake
in this life—not the one
he'd choose, torn from
the only woman
he had ever truly loved.
Her face, her touch, her voice,
he remembers them all.
The memories are as real
as any he has formed in life.
Palpable as dawn, so
hr starts searching for
a strand of her long hair or
familiar scent somewhere on his
clothes, but nothing, and he knows then
he will never ever see her again.
Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment