Dream Country

The light goes out. Waking life
drifts away, fades, falls silent.
The desert at the doorstep

is a strip of darkness
with a cluster of flowers
pointed at the moon.
Dreams begin to open

their petals. They are set
on twisting streets

which have no end, on which
a street car runs
without stopping
and everyone aboard

is dressed for showers
of the dreary kind that fall

in the far away and long ago
that comes back to life
with the window open

and the scent of spring
drifts through, hangs
in the air all night,
says don’t worry

says that was another country,
in this one it never rains

© David Chorlton