Kathleen (the dreams)

River of apricots bobbing
and weaving in nectar currents,

I spill wisdom on you as you
sleep in the grass. The next town

begins here or ends here –
depending and I watch the moon

go under at the rapids, then
surface. I hear that first thunder

of Keats that will never die. The
rivers we will not see in this

lifetime have passed this way
tonight as I heard you say

Kathleen as if I were your
journey’s destination.

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