Within Dreams
The night whispered as I stirred
and I lingered under a warm blanket
before walking barefoot
through a narrow hallway.
I’d been sick in the morning
angry at work-
and I didn’t know why.
Earlier in the night a friend and I
talked about politicians
and he showed me a thick book
of poems, he called modern.
I said I read more recent poems.
He was sad, and I was tired
and I drove him home.
We spoke about our lives
and I talked about my losses
things I was struggling to understand.
The night was still.
I talked about what I
settled for,
what I was meant to be
and I felt my heartbeat.
I knew I was living
to write another poem.
Streetlights shone stars
and when I got back home
I listened to speakers on TV
for inspiration and to a song
to soothe my soul.
I turned on my laptop
saw a prompt to write
about dreams within dreams.
The prompt stirred
within chambers of my heart
before I slipped into a dark room
and went to bed.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2024
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