I had a dream where
I found a way to look at your
Instagram through one of those hilarious
Nebulas
Dreams
Afford, wrapped tightly with a regal logic, and it was
One of those spreads that takes up
Like nine or twelve squares in the grid to make
A large picture that can only be seen on the profile.
Yours seemed to have gone on miles, radiant,
Linear through the bottom, raining through the holes
Onto my dream-ground, a picture of you in Winter
In your blue overcoat, standing, harboring,
What is beyond only I know the birches behind you,
Falling apart with tremendous grace.
I mean the trees.
Falling apart, the trees had tremendous grace.
When I tried to pinch the screen to zoom in
The individual squares would fractal away smaller,
And smaller.
I woke up shivering, my room is poorly insulated,
Burrowing into my sweatshirt. The day will start soon;
I will buy a blanket from Target, I will walk through
An Atlantic storm, leaning into the windsweep.
I can hear it starting on my windows. Outside,
A school of children scream upward, guiding
The rain onto their faces.
