Yesterday Lingers

 

Yesterday Lingers

 

Yesterday, I thought I saw you; it was a dream

and hard to know if I’m awake or dreaming still.

So often the same, when summer rain tumbles,

spills from heavy skies, washing wet sleepy eyes,

heaven hung lakes of lunar sea plunge evermore

water, floating so airthick you must swim ashore,

rubbing sodden eyes that can't be entirely sure.

Oh, I’m not sore. You’ll find me roving this beat,

worn lookout eyes of grungy leather foot soldiers

marching as to war, but suing for keeping peace

in our time, rehearsing all this in jubilant speech

should we meet, so often I've memorised scripts.

Of course it goes just so, I say words, you say no,

then off to lay beside us in some drowsy hollow

explore the other’s loss with slumber’s fingers.

It lingers. A sun struggle in hibernating tortoise

that cannot quite thrust his blind headed screw

through our stubborn woollen pull over the top,

it’s all two legs entangled together in one pant,

as when we awake into sleep, drifting so deep

among drowning dreams that stalk and creep.