Questions Bred of Dreams
Why should the streets of a city,
the numbers more or less right
come back in a dream on a night
removed from the past by sixty-
five years? In the newspaper days,
I knew the numbers by heart.
Why did I not follow charm’s art-
ful lead through love’s vexed maze?
Why does dust and heat still rise
from archives of sleep? Did my eyes
not once open to light upon farms?
Did lovers not pledge to face all harms
and enter new homes after wars
on new streets, new numbers on doors?
Copyright © Bill Keen | Year Posted 2019
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