Strange sleep...a dream
Most nights are quiet ...like a garden
Sweet
But when the memory
Becomes a jagged thing
Sly forces strike
And a discordant dream
Is born
And it repeats
It looms....
Some murky old exams
That I must sit
Exams passed long ago
That I must do again
I’m threatened now
And I am ill prepared
I know I cannot do them
Sometimes it shifts
I’m waiting ...in the wings
The audience is there
But...I don’t know my lines.
The Dream
Becomes a drifting thing
Leaden ...sinister
As though
There’s all to lose in life
And in the dream.
Kristine Byrne
April 2014