Caren Krutsinger Poet Free verse

I Fly at Night

I fly at night, all over the cosmos, not just in our hemisphere
my husband says my soul is gone, mouth open, I look dead
there is no way to rouse me, my spirit is soaring
dreamland is graveyard city to me; I am no longer in body

my dreams are not remembered, do I have them?
there is not one sliver of a memory about them
Are they in color or black and white?
I know not, but I sometimes wake up hearing the last line of a poem.

Daydreaming is another story, I can recall each one of those.
I develop an orphanage, an animal rescue center, and a newspaper.
Two of these things might be obsolete now, but they weren’t in the sixties.
I spent most of my grade school hours daydreaming

My husband says he could never get me out if there was a fire.
If there was a flood, I might be lucky enough to float out
But until I hit my chest with a hard whomp sound, I am in dreamland
I fly at night, all over the cosmos, not just in our hemisphere.

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