You stood there heating your backside by the fireplace,
I sat in bed telling you how real my dream felt last night,
Perched in a tree with bears prowling below.
I watched while you walked away without responding,
As if I and my dreams and all that lay between was nothing.
Dreams are the strangest things, I said to myself, to no one
at all, and realized, this too was another dream.
Deborah J. Brasket, 2021