I lunge through a wall
of trees. Dreaming, I float
to moonscape. I marvel

at the large blue earth
& I am suddenly an atom,
a speck of lunar

sand. I recall the silk
of river, scent of yellow
elder. How my muscles

insisted when I was rowdy
but scared like a slow-footed
terrapin. When I used to lug

my troubles around;
they were weighty as fat
wrapped Italian

hams. I’m reduced now
to moon grit,
a vibrant, imperceptible

I peruse the tumbled
rock, camp-out in a crater

under a comfortable granule.
I could get used to it here
& relax as the earth spins

far below, no worries in sight.
No control,      I’m swept back,
beginning the dream’s end.

I morph to jellyfish & sea
bream. I backstroke home,
heavy as a continent.

I wake on the wide
rim of a tuba, returning
to my body’s subatomic

keening. I toss off the sweat-
soaked twist of sheets,
naked & newly awakened.