The View

THE DREAM (by Paul Demuth)

He pulls the front door to
and gets into the car.

Awoken by the latch,
she stares through the bedroom window

until the crunch of gravel dies,
and then returns to bed.

Hours later, at 6am,
she's awoken by the alarm.

As she washes and dresses
and cleans her teeth,
she's haunted by an image from a dream,

the cherub by the drive,
illuminated by the headlights' beam,
amid the blackness of the night.

Then, going out to work, she taps
on the spare room's door
to wake him up.

The usual groan
does not ensue,
so she opens the door and scans

the bed,
the floor,
the walls.