Wednesday, April 22, 2020

This Morning's Dream

We worked in the dark
Half dancing, gathering twigs
By campfire
Under watchful frown
From a leathery old man
While our shadows played
Together in the trees.
Back in the cabin
You removed your leg
Made dinner
Pushed hair from your eyes
While I messed with the prosthesis
Propped by the screen door. 
The old man told us stories
From the war
Then shot a bullet into the ceiling
As punctuation.