I had a couple dreams this week,
So real they’re retained;
As usual, when I awoke,
The dreams were unexplained
The first much simpler to deduce,
Involved a former mate;
When standing at a kitchen sink
Her lips bore what she’d ate.
Knowing that I simply loved
What she’d just taken in,
I leaned ahead to kiss her lips
And nibble on her chin.
She asked me what was that about,
Affection I’d reply;
She gave that look she always gave
Each time she’d catch a lie.
The other dream, it’s hard to source,
I’m at my grandma’s farm;
When Springsteen strolled onto the lawn,
A guitar in an arm.
It seemed that I had know that he’d be
Arriving to record
A song within the farm’s embrace,
The rural sound explored.
Apparently I knew him so
Surprised I didn’t seem;
But thought it odd my grandparents
Were blind to his esteem.
They continued picking fruit
And plowing up the field,
While Bruce recorded his new song
With sounds the farm would yield.
He gathered up his travelin’ pack,
I gave him his guitar;
He headed off into the day,
A modest super star.
I turned around, resumed my tasks,
One thought I held of mine;
My cousin would have liked to have
An autograph he’d sign.
No one knows exactly how
We cast the dreams we dream;
When consciousness departs the soul
Along the twilight’s seam.