and you saw me.
I was wearing camo pants,
you were wearing a camo top.
You were with a boy,
I was laughing with gals from work.
You unblocked your blog after
and communicated for a spell.
You were studying to be a doula,
all but given up on writing.
I wish I would have looked at you longer;
maybe it wasn't a dream.
I wrote this poem sweating in my sleep,
and tried to get back to the nightmare just to see you.
I wake up on July 4th
and wonder if you had the same dream in Kentucky.