Dream Steward

A Poem by Dawn

Was I there--
behind the spiraling swells?

Peering down
through a ubiquitous sky
I saw your thoughts unfold
like waxing words.

Your glassy gaze
a window's soul
overcast, complete with
grainy shutters.
The light straining through
through their splintered wood.
And glimpsed a thought--or five.

Porcelain doll
with dreams.
If your fantasies were a pool
I'd trail my fingers through them
to see how they swirled and stirred.

I'd be the hand reaching
to roll down your window--
offering you the clouds
with a ladder more substantive
than wisps of a muse.

Welcome to the beanstalk.