I’d Always Opt for Peaches
When I woke, and the stars were lost,
I thought I’d lost you, too. That dream,
it was all about death. Or so it seemed,
although I don’t think anyone died.
It was a glimpse, like dressing for dinner,
when dinner wasn’t about food, but
long-tailed jackets. Clothing without
direction, as if true north was a myth.
And all those pink peaches.
Did I forget to mention the peaches?
Yes, perhaps so. Peaches rolling about
like cheese wheels down a steep hill.
But I know that dreams about death
never mean death. It’s more about
new beginnings. A subconscious flush.
Truly, I’d rather dream of those peaches
because endings come soon enough.