Untitled 90.1

I dreamed I was stalking a black cat
on a windswept plain
in pink winter light.
She was beautiful.
She stood and watched me, grazing
on sparce winter-shoots.
I was loaded and ready.
Just when I got close enough
I was a little too close and she moved, unconcerned,
backing a few steps away.
Then she was grazing again in the pink sunlight.
I slowly moved toward her again, and again,
just when I got in range
she trotted a few feet distant, twitching her tail,
watching me.
What do I do now, I thought.
With patience I moved closer once more, then,
as wild things will do,
she took flight and disappeared
into the pink sky,
leaving me alone on the empty plain.

Untitled 90.2

I dreamed I was an old man
on a cruise ship,
as old as my grandfather when he passed away
shortly after losing his mind.
I sat alone at a white table
on the foredeck in the morning sun, a very old man
watching other people talk and laugh,
couples and families enjoying the warmth.
I wanted pink lemonade.

I dreamed I thought back to my youth
perhaps fifty years ago on a ship like this one.
A young woman stood in her stateroom
clutching a bedsheet close around her body.
I watched a young man rave,
furious at her
while she meekly stood, head down,
but she did not cry.
I dreamed I felt vindicated and I told the man,
"See? I told you it wasn't me! I told you!"
But the man ignored me and I left the room,
perhaps I was never there.

I sat on the deck at a white table
in the morning sun
and began to cry, soundlessly,
with all the pain of age.
And a very old woman, seeing my tears,
brought me a pink lemonade.