when my lamp is reflected by dark windows
looking out on the still and silent street
I like to imagine what they’re dreaming.
The husband dreams long sequences
of DNA, the four magic letters
dancing in an endless loop that
ladders up to the sky and returns to earth
as musical notes, sometimes lyric, sometimes
The child dreams of cartoon battles.
Evil is conquered. The day is saved.
He’s hoisted onto a tower,
primary colored tiny interlocking bricks
and he climbs to the top and dives
to the crystal water below, swimming
and there is a hand reaching
to help him up and out.