Interpretation of a Dream

Showing off your car and even the bullet holes are lovely.
With squeal and heat of speed your worm-squiggly smile
Darkens with mirth and dries deeply into your cheeks.
Something mad slithers in your eyes and excites me.
You are consubstantial with the crabapple that tastes
Like the rage I was neither saint nor shaman enough to fix.
You are elemental and salty like the tears that make the lake
Spreading beneath my feet which I’ve named for you,
And you are seventeen again, the feast which would be
Our sadness has not yet been eaten, the ring is newly kissed,
Your manic laughter is a daily portent of heaven
And the future is a faith that is not yet proven false.
Far away you are resting now as you have always wished,
And the rasping voice and asthmatic cough are silent,
Your hair is no longer tangled in knots like a little girl’s,
You no longer trip over your feet or spill your drinks,
It makes no difference if dinner is hot or cold or ignored
And the dishes can wait till the next Millennium, and more.
I’ll feed our sickly hamster and water our browning plant,
Knowing at last you are safe from my hopes and lack.