THE SCAM
Dreams can dupe the mind and heart.
They are such conmen,
showing you, demonstrating,
that the inexistent is real.
Each morning I choose
the most beautiful,
wring the tears from them
and lay them out to dry,
in order to conserve them
for future pondering,
retaining them in retrospection
and imagining there is
reality in their deception.
Later, I review them with relish,
savoring the dense flavor,
even tastier than the original,
while rolling them around
in memory's hollowness,
a bowl of dried apricots,
half sour, half sweet,
able to momentarily appease
a hunger that is eternal.
REVIVING
Shredded sunbeams
filter through
the fingers of a blind.
The insistence
of their caress
then stirs my eyes
to consciousness
behind their own
lowered shutters,
and they relinquish
the pulsating cord
leashing them
to a parallel life,
secret, perfect,
impossible.
About Lois Elaine Heckman
