I dreamed the familiar dream of a strange house
I can not place; vast windows and redwood
framed by gray trees bending in lazy moonlight.
The house commands the tides from its cliff throne
and so did you; when you crashed the car and
crashed your fist through the sliding glass door,
leaving drops of blood sparkling with glass
on the dream house floor.
Last night I dreamed you crashed into my soul
and my heart rolled from the rocky throne,
floating on quicksilver waves before sinking
into the sanctuary of the sea.
In my late twenties I had a recurring dream of a magnificent, redwood house perched on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The house was surrounded by a grove of pine trees. My view of the house was always from the outside; standing in the pines or in front of a wall of windows facing the sea. I thought about what might have happened inside the dream house.
Original Publisher: Grey Sparrow Journal - online version
Reprinted with permission in The Glass Sponge
Publisher: Finishing Line Press