Not Really There

Dream lore claims that the
dead come back on Halloween
and there you were

Two Poems for All Saints Day
After You Died

I dreamt of an overgrown crumbling churchyard,
maybe someone’s funeral, was it yours?
But no, you were there,
somberly dressed, a mourner.
Why didn’t I make my way over to you?

But then the dream leaves the graveyard,
arrives at my house, where many helpful people
are setting out a feast.
Observing their dreamy kindness,
I feel so grateful, so lucky, so sad.

But you are not there, at this after-party.
I look for you. Maybe if I had made my
way to you, at the crumbling graveyard,
you might be here, now —
at this gathering, so deep and meaningful.

I could have talked to you at last.
Why didn’t I? a dream voice asks.
And then another voice, another me,
says because you weren’t really there.
But what if I had made my way over to you?

UVA Cemetery & Columbarium
Blue Sweater Halloween

I put on the sweater—and then,
time passed —forward, backward— not sure which.
The trick-or-treaters came to the door.

The sweater—hand-me-down from my son
how strange to see you, in my dream,
in his blue cashmere quarter zip.

You are leaving, walking to the next house.
I hold in my hand, a twenty-dollar bill,
folded into origami—

I meant it for the kids, for you. Treat.
But now I see you have turned away—
in my sweater hand-me-down.

I call your name, but can’t catch up.
I only see you from the back, blue cashmere
walking away. I remember when you died—

—now, you are here, but leaving—
or maybe that is me, from behind
in my son’s blue sweater. Trick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: Many thanks to my friend Jan Donely -- artist, writer, teacher, perception checker -- for her assistance on this creative endeavor. Remembering dreams has never been my strength, nor interpreting them, so how could I be sure if was writing poems, or merely recording dreams? I turned for advice to Jan, who kindly observed: "You are writing down a dream, but I believe a poem is being carved out of the dream."

Out of a thousand unremembered dreams, these two -- the graveyard and the blue sweater -- were unshakeable. In the past I have remembered a couple of other vivid dreams as visitations from the dead -- my father; my maternal grandparents. This time, however, "visitation" doesn't seem the correct word -- perhaps simply a "sighting." Whatever the meaning, a couple of things I've learned along the way:

1. When someone recently dead appears in your dreams, it is not necessarily because they have come with a message for you from the other side, but more likely because you have something to tell them.

2. When someone from your past appears in your dreams, they are probably a stand - in for someone in your present. If that's me in the blue sweater, what message am I trying to tell myself? What is the message from my psyche?