Last night’s dream
is now a fleeting thought –
it evaded you at dawn
at sun’s first beam,
and if you aren’t careful, soon it’ll turn to nought
It remains, lingering
as a shadow in your heart –
thought less than feeling,
an impression remaining
in you, subconscious, which you can’t quite call forth
Last night’s dream
was a dream; no more, no less –
now stored in memory,
fragmented, but not without esteem;
for it contained the essence of your every hope and wish