In Dreams

Last night, Mark dreamt he was swimming in electricity,
     held close by its blue arms.
He said the last time he'd had such a dream was when his father was dying
     --how can it be 13 years already?

Former Newspaper students filled my dreams
    huddled close not by deadlines but rather for the chance to simply be close.

Those arms, too, held me.

As did the back-and-forth of the Great Horned Owls,
one just outside our bedroom window
      me, crouched silent by the blinds,
      holding my breath
   
 . . . waiting, waiting, waiting
for the throaty exchange.