Dream Poem

In the dream

I am the lone worker

on a fishing ship

wanting to know

the time just like

the bird who comes

to take the watch

that my grandfather gave

to my father before

he was committed.

Her beak seizing the chain

stripping my palm

as she streaks from the deck

like a thread of lightning

connecting with its point

of genesis in the sky,

I follow her ascent

until the sun absorbs her body

and I am blind from that

moment of looking on.

Then she is diving furiously

furiously into the surf

as if endeavoring for a fish

my heart

knowing

somehow

that she will not resurface.

The picture of her delicacy

suspended within that bath,

her feathers lifted away

by the density of the water:

I hold it until I am awake

and for some time

after.