friday

i don't remember
exactly what they were about
something about lovers and files, somehow
and this morning i am obsessed with the idea that, somehow
you will find what i wrote last night discouraging and sad, which
it wasn't intended to be

and
even though
i don't remember the dream clearly at all
i remember
the color
it was
a pewter colored dream

pewter
of the candlesticks i bought
to celebrate shabbat
with you

surely
that's a happy sign

surely
i worry too much

may you be inscribed. and all that
but, really
you're grown around my soul
a strong black vine

and becky thatcher
dances in the okemah moonlight
watch her twirl boys watch her twirl
in the inky darkness
like the tips of her pigtails

oh tom, why