It is not often that I recall my dreams
But like finding a rare coin
Treasured dreams of my mother live
Beyond the dark of night  

Some are sweet like golden honey
Others are savory like salt on a raw wound
I do not determine
What feeds my soul
Or depletes my appetite  

The time we spent
Dining at her favorite restaurant
Traipsing across the Swiss Alps
Sipping Evian water in Evain, France
Is now recalled
Upon a memory foam pillow
 
When night crawls behind the sun
And dawn awakens me
I ache for her presence
And hold every remembrance close to me