All day the fabric of my thought
has been suffused with last night’s dreams
just enough to remember emotion or image
not enough to recall narrative or sequence
so I propose in my near waking state
that this is what the previous life
or the next life should wind up being
a shift between consciousness with
no information passing between the cusps
except for the premonition of existence
just as a glance puts you in the perspective
of one approximating an open window
the leaf upturned awaiting the storm
the humidity thick with anticipation
on another world there are oceans underground
plumes of spray exalting through the crust
I take it in as I take in this memory
of what I was going to say were I not
interrupted by what I want to remember
as last night’s dreams of waking life
but the moment has passed and becomes