I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

11 September 2011


Sept. 11 2011

I wake, full of
walking in my door
surprised to find
a large lamp
in the centre of the room.
Just delivered, 
I’m informed —
in my dream,
still with me as I wake.

At the same time 
Andrew, waking too,
sits up in bed, saying, 
‘We have to make
a delivery today. 
But I don’t know what
or to whom.’ I tell him,
‘It was a dream’
but he’s not so sure.

It worries him
half the morning.
He’s convinced
it’s very important.
I assure him
I don’t remember
any such necessity.
This does not

Now I’m wondering too.
If we both dreamed
of deliveries, is there 
something important
to remember
on this day?
Who or what
needs to be delivered
to or from what or whom?

30 Poems in 30 Days: 10, an arrival or delivery.

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