Last night I dreamed of dust and distant thunder.
Summer dust shuffling into openings, settling onto all inert objects.
Dust as solar tears;
When your tear ducts dry, you suffer.
Last night I woke and did not cry;
I woke and heard the rain drip, descanting into the darkness.
Last night I slept and wished for more.
As with eating, we have forgotten how to sleep, two fundamental acts of living:
We complicate what should be simple & simplify what should be complicated.
Last night I woke and saw intruding headlights.
As a child, I needed light to sleep—
Now our days and nights slip the grout and become a seep:
I wake without waking and sleep without sleeping, drowsing through the deep.