I keep falling asleep & waking
Up & falling asleep & sometimes
Dreaming & waking up & there
You lay next to that lamp we click
On & off as cats sit in a north facing
Window that sometimes lets in sun-
Light & moonlight & dove sounds
& oak pollen & here I am pouring cold
Coffee into a pint glass, going over the
Night’s dream in which I’m standing
In a kitchen not unlike my own, pouring
Cold coffee into a pint glass & telling
You or someone very much like you
About this store I found way north
Of town & how it stocks these lost things
(My first pair of glasses, grandfather’s
Jacket, that cheap camera stolen
On the Paris Metro, Charlie Daniels
Saddle Tramp on vinyl, a Styrofoam
Gliding toy shaped like a bald eagle,
Daddy’s cotton scouting boll weevil
Notebooks, mother’s class ring slipped
From her finger the same day she met
Pat Boone on a senior trip to NYC in ’59,
Those mountain bikes we forgot to lock)
& so I’ve cleaned out the shelves & I’m
At the cash register reaching for my wallet
But the alarm clock goes off, set to chime
Church bells, which is funny because
I stopped believing a long time ago.
Williams,
Thanks. Enjoyed your poem.
Timothy