A GHOSTLY DREAM

A Ghostly Dream
Age 32, Apex, North Carolina, 1977
after my divorce
-- This is one poem, from my autobiographical series of poems, that I posted here at WriteSpike. Go to my Stories section for others. They are in chronological order. --

I have been back to our home
many times in my dreams

I drive down the long gravel road
with red clay rising behind me
to our front yard
but no dogs run out to greet me
which is strange

I walk in our door
into the living room
I can smell a large pot of lentils -
a dish we learned to make in Spain
with rosemary, onions and tomatoes -
on the wood cooking stove
that is putting out a soft heat

and the yellow muslin curtains
you dyed and sewed
blow in the drafts
of this antebellum farmhouse
that we rented

I am just about to throw my coat
on my grandmother's velvet couch
when I notice things
are slightly ajar -
I see new furniture and pictures
have been added

in my home
where I felt most comfortable
I become afraid
I am out of place
then I remember
we have broken up
and you are living with someone else

I hear a car
and know I am an intruder
I hide behind the wallpaper
as others walk past me

then I slip out the door
and fly above the road
as the house sinks into darkness
and the one light upstairs -
the one we always left on
when we were away -
throws a shaft through the windows
onto the field below

I have this dream
for many years
and like the ghost
that locals say haunted the house
I have to keep returning
looking for what we lost