From a Dream
Written by Luke T. Campbell
You stood by the lavender
Not a guest, nuisance, nor intruder
Dead grass beneath your bare feet
A desert from the salt of the sea
I asked you a question
Or you read my mind
Yet gave me no answer
But with your eyes, stared
My job ever incomplete
To water the lawn and keep in green
Most of it lush
Except for your corner
Dirt turned to dust
Dying, if not dead
Ever a presence in my head
A tune that I whistle
To make the time seem fickle
I can not fret
At your daily encroachment
I know you are me
Although your face I can’t see
Keep waiting, I’ve work to do
I’ll join you when I’m ready
Relatively soon
