Thinking Of Some Very Dear Souls Up On Brokenback Mountain Last Year While At An Oregon Coast Motel This Saturday...
Awoke before five
Daybreak rustles the light surf
Swallows slice across the window
As the sound of an early truck scratches the road.
Later this morning have to be packed and away.
New guests will be coming,
Bill was settled the day before,
The owner saying "Just leave the keys on the table,
When you're out of here."
Gonna be a while before coming back,
Yet am suffused with a sense of pleasure
Because Truman, Noelie, Joe Owen, Joe Chapadeau, Wayne, Dana, and Judy were in my dream.
The stale coffee boils up, but caught it before
It goes over the side, poured it into a cup and
Blew on the black liquid, letting a panel of the dream slide forward.
If I do not force my attention on it,
It might stoke the day, before departing,
Rewarm that year-ago time on the mountain
Far to the east of here, when we owned the world
And nothing seemed wrong.
Dreams need tending*, even at a motel on the Oregon Coast...
(Thoughts paraphrased from Brokeback Mountain)
(*Jessi Ford on ennisjack.com)