Dreamless

I fell asleep on the bus again,
Or maybe I dreamt I fell
Asleep on the bus.
When I woke
The sky was lavender,
And my hands were cold.
I gathered my things–
Apparently I had shopped–
And maneuvered past
The octopus of legs spread
Across the floor.
These buildings were familiar,
Yet stood asymmetrically
On streets with strange names,
As if a child had flung
All the parts to a game
Haphazardly across a board.
I asked a man for our address,
But he stared uncomfortably.
My words made no sense;
They scattered like coins.
My bag grew too heavy–
I stopped and peeked in.
There were luscious red fruits
That smelled of ripe flesh,
Orchids, and death. Spiders
Danced on their mottled skin.
I left the bag on a bench:
My burdens, my sins.
Soon after, I turned a corner
And found our house, perfect
And clean, but you were gone.
I lay down on our bed,
Falling,
Falling into
A dreamless sleep.

~*~

What Do You See? (Sadje’s #24)

Image from Pexels.

A friend in a poetry workshop shared this challenge with me from a few weeks ago: write a poem with only one fantastical element. “Dreamless” is my response. The one element of magical realism is the image of familiar houses placed crookedly on streets with strange names.

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