This is the sky I always know
when it comes in a dream
means
“listen up …
something profound
is taking place”
Usually I’m in a lofty
apartment in Boston
waiting for my lover to arrive
or move
or speak
Not always, though
Sometimes we’re in
a basement – a converted
factory with
easels and paintings
everywhere
And not my lover
but my muse
Or not my muse
but my teacher
Anyway, a lesson
is at hand
That colorless sky
is my mind’s blank page
the place where
rational thought
meets improbable
imagination
(It is a dream, after all.)
Or is it?
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