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.