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Dreams can’t speak;
They have no words.

Deaf, dumb, numb,
they express in sheer visuals.

Else, they would have chanted
all your hundred and eight names,
none of which has a weak stem or verb:
complete, confident.

Prepositions fly away
with the dust
rising from the hoofs
of their racing horses.

they are sheer stunned images.

Else, they would have uttered
a thousand more of your synonyms
for which I would have had
to create a new thesaurus.

And write poems galore.

3 October, 1994