The Dream
I see a wall, cracked by the might of a giant wave.
Stones lie scattered near it, torn loose
by a storm that had blown for days off shore.
It smashed the trees and fences, and tore
the sidewalk into these jagged stones that come,
like shreds of wasted anger, in my dream.
But now I need the anger.
I need the smashed trees, and the rocks,
and that dream I still remember.
--the women
who leapt endlessly from a single window
into the courtyard below; my face flattened
against the pillow. Night after night
these women came, and I loved their
graceful deaths.