I used to spend my dreams
the ones you wake remembering
being pursued relentlessly
by an unknown enemy
like Buchan’s hero in The 39 Steps
and in The Hero’s Journey
just when you think you’re in the clear
the antagonist is once more there
More often, recently
I find myself lost
in a big city I should know
flavour of London perhaps
but away from shiny landmarks
yet central – not suburbs
busily, chaotically urban
I search for the familiar
always nearing – never succeeding
Occasionally, I am rehashing
past jobs – of which I’ve had many
seeking an elusive
key to success
and waking then, I feel
dreams might indeed
be the arena in which
our unconscious attempts
to sort the business of the day
Rarely, too, I find myself
in a dwelling I used nearly to know
the character of rooms
I used to share with friends
and yet they’re not quite right
somehow…
a building sprawling
through the dream without end
and I wake with only the feeling of
a place once known…
© Andrew Wilson, 2024
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Grace in Poetics, invites us to write about Dreams…