DREAM 1000

Familiar old duvets,

cache night’s playtime,

Freeing want, need and fear.


The youngest son

can’t be found.

Frenzied in the streets,

dark neighborhoods,

recognition gone.

Hiding in alleys,

hooded goons,

Chase me.


The visits,

from Daddy,

that gorgeous face,

even in death.

Silently smiles

at the girl he watches.



walking amongst

the lovely dead,

or fiends of life.


Dreams, familiar yet new,

bitter, sweet or sour.

The phone I cannot dial.

The clock I cannot stall.

The lover I cannot keep.


Until I awaken,

Found, embraced, safe.



Beth Schorr Jaffe