Dreams

 Dreams

I am six.

I am asleep.

I am playing baseball.

I am an outfielder.

I get up out of bed.

I say aloud, “I have to catch the ball before it goes over the fence.”

I jump up.

I hit the wall. 

I catch the ball.

I wake up.

I celebrate, waking up my sibs and folks.

I am ushered back to bed.

I am ten.

I am asleep.

I am flying over our house.

I wake up in bed, a soft landing.

It was quite the flight.

I am twelve.

I am asleep.

It’s Halloween

I am riding in a car.

It is rainy and foggy.

Out of the gloom, a man appears on foot.

A man in a trench coat.

A man without a head.

I wake up happy not to be in the car.

I am sixteen.

I am asleep.

Oh, oh. Puberty has set-in.