After the dreamers listen,
the film strip ends.
The light switch remains flipped—
while the children recite the pledge.

Before the dreamers drink,
the lovers must forgive.
Their bodies laid beside September sheets;
Their widows kiss and wipe the other’s head.

After the dreamers pray,
a pasture is lit by a sun that set two hours late.
A plum tree uproots and tilts to the north,
while nine coyotes haunt their father’s front lawn.

Before the dreamers wake,
vengeance is at stake.
A harpoon hangs in the attic;
A stranger waits at the back gate.

written on 07/03/2009 by: Matt Kane