I dreamed about a dead poets son who
I took an elevator that went to nowhere and stopped between floors.
He was darkly handsome
His smile comfortably intimate, as if this weren’t death we were living in as if his
life had never happened.
lost in his studio, scattered with the detritus of years.
The fish called to you. You bade me stay while you strode forth in confidence, leaving me to wonder at your absence.
2023 Diane O’Leary
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