Dream (or Stuff I Write at 3 AM)

I blew around the airport.
I’m too old to run
so I let the wind
of other people’s travels
blow me past,
swooping low, soaring high,
tumbling in swift spirals.

There would be an airplane
somewhere for me
in this wild place of portals.
I passed one gate
and could hear a plane outside
whispering machinely,
“Come on, hurry! Come to me!
I’ll take you somewhere
filled with delight
and suffused in wonder…”
But I blew on past so fast
I couldn’t even see its destination.
It wasn’t my gate anyway.

At last the wind dropped me, lightly
on my feet, slightly tipped, but
I soon straightened.
O, yes — a flight to Iona…
does Iona have an airport?
No……….. but…
I could get there from here
if only I knew the names
of all of the ancient stones.

And then a cat jumped on me
and we fell the rest of the way
out of the airport
and into my bed
Home. Warm bed. Cats.

Still, I did tell the cats
(when I fed them at midnight)
that I didn’t want to be
wakened early this morning,
certainly not at 3 AM
for their morning riot.

Yet…

Home, warm bed —
the best place of all.

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