Memories in Dreams

Memories in Dreams

I am dreaming.

Down the empty, echoing corridor,

Step by ringing step,

Heels click and soles tap,

Door after door.

I stop at the first door.

Inside I can hear memories, my memories

I don’t want to know,

I don’t want to remember.

The memories tap at the door.

I hold the door shut.

I can hear the urgent whispers.

I turn the lock in the door.

I think hard about a picture of sunflowers to blot the memory out

And stumble to the next door.

I stop at the second door.

I can hear the memories, more memories.

A snatch of music and a tap, tap, tap.

I see fingers against frosted glass and I hold the door shut.

I don’t want to hear the music.

I don’t want to remember.

The door is tugged.

I hold harder against the music.

I turn the lock in the door.

I think hard about the sound water over pebbles to blot the memory out

And stagger to the next door.

I stop at the third door.

I can hear memories, many memories.

A scent of flowers and old books drifts past.

I feel the door tremble as I struggle to hold the door.

I don’t want to smell this.

I don’t want to remember.

The door shakes.

I see the handle turn as I lock the door.

I think hard about the feel of clean sheets to blot the memory out.

I slide down and crawl to the next door.

I stop at the fourth door.

I am too late.

Memories spill out.

Your smile in sunlight.