I dreamt about a poem
Covered in cotton sheets,
Hanging from a clothes line.
And the air stirs,
The clouds pass by
Whispering somber utterances -
Words not meant for man.

And I walked out in frustration
From my bedroom morning light
Down the backyard porch steps
Into the wind
And said nothing.
I said nothing to the shadows.
Spoke not a word to the clouds.

Alone and forgotten
Waiting for the words to dry.