In my dream I am driving.
My tires grip onto winding roads embellished by the
Dancing shadows of
Sun shining through autumn leaves.
Turn after turn I embrace the sun
Warming my face, then disappearing behind a mountain
Only to re-emerge moments later.

In my dream I am troubled.
I am happy with the wind blowing through the opened windows
Carrying my hair in its delicate gusts
But I am harried. Bothered by something,
Unsettled by its creeping presence.
I look over my shoulder to laughing passengers unknown
By voice and indistinct face.

In my dream I am weeping.
Before I can realize I’ve slipped from the road I feel
The burning of heavy tears staining my cheeks
And filling wide, searching eyes.
My friends are departed and a tight
Knot of trepidation fixes itself in my stomach,
Writhing, acidic, and intolerable.

In my dream I am dying.
A sudden realization takes over my being
That this is the end of my short mediocre life, and
Morbid as it is I am peaceful.
I watch myself fly off the edge of the green, but rocky cliff
And I am falling. Sailing on the same enjoyed wind in a
Downward spiral to the bottom.