And finally
we awoke, talking
of the dream.....
sitting on the porch
as the midwestern night
crept slowly up the lawn.
Listen, the first cicada.
The air is humid and sultry.
Perhaps it will rain and wash away
all of this and leave us
young and alive and new
in a fresh wilderness.
Or perhaps we are only dreaming of
waking and talking of
the dream awoken as the
night breeze soothes and cleanses
our naked flesh as we lay there
and whether
sleeping or waking or dreaming
we are happy and content
in this love
for we wouldn't have it
any other way.
