End of the Summer Trip to the Reef

Novus Ordo Incendium

I dream a dream-

It has been said.

The dog alongside wakes suddenly at this very moment,

and the next, springs forth to search out her mate-

she has forgotten her master altogether.

The midnight sun catches in our throats

like so much desert dust.

Yellowed paper and tattered plastic ware from the glove box will do,

So hungry so hungered so very hungry;

Nous sommes Americanes-

And despite or because of this,

A thirsty lot we have become; overturning all that is rooted,

a search for seeing goes on.

A remembrance:

Traces of the dream expand forever, as only small, overturned things can grow,

reusing their own past

insomuch that the dream takes a new body, having grown a new soul,

fed upon the desert soil, a sated lot we become,

because of or despite all of this.

And as each wanders purposefully toward reconciliation,

the past tense of the subjunctive hanging

on every word,

our searching walk daily reveals memory

passing orange groves and nutmeg trees

with their fruits and seeds orange, creamy white ,and scarlet-

the pattering music of patio breakfasts drifting like cirrus over cedar fences,

as only a little, dewey rain upon the grass  

remains from the night before.