Dream

My head hits the pillow softly
Dreams prepare for dreaming
Lining up at the foot of the bed
Sorting each other out
Depending on what sort of day it's been
Or life

They tramp along in slow-march step
Make their way to the center of my sleeping universe
Spread their picnic blankets all checkered and stained
What images for this evening's fare
What fright shall we give the boy tonight,
Or what delight

Copyright 2006 E. Bond Francisco