A house, a short-way up the road
on the canyon’s curve, looks abandoned
but it is warm and comfortable inside

where I head afoot, noticing sign.
Around the bend, some kind of vehicle
is crunched into a rock pile,

upside down, broken glass—I look
for life but there is no one, dead or alive.
I look inside the house for a dent

in the couch, a butt in the ashtray,
then relax to contemplate
what I don’t understand.

I hear voices out back and see three
young men reclined around a rocked-in
fire for cooking. The yard is immaculate

without debris of weeds and leaves
as they look up to greet me, offering
the best they have, when I wake up.

One response to “AT TWO A.M.

  1. Nice dream! I like that kind!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.