It's Still Life

The Bookcase

When I dream, I write it down. 
He says he never dreams, but 
the bookcase says otherwise. 
His side, which is the right side, 
is filled with folded road maps. 

He dreams of being carefree   
as a river, or a thin-line horizon. 
His Michelin in hand. To drive  
across roads of Norway and 
Denmark. Germany. France. 

I have no maps on my side. 
I’m a passenger on the left side. 
Gardening, cookery, reference. 
Oxford Dictionary, its spine 
is weak and cracked from age. 

I'm on the left. My books are 
alphabetised. He's on the right. 
He's an owl in a china shop, 
and says he never dreams. 
Me, I am always dreaming. 

AI Art & poem ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter.