You toss all night in a bed that sails on a river of dreams.
Someone has left the oven on, but when you go to turn it off,
a light blinks green, and lo! The bread is done!
You find the oven mitts, lift the loaf pan onto a wire rack.
How good everything smells.
And then bells are ringing again, and you climb the stairs,
wondering as you go what the walls will do.
At the top you meet a small boy, drumming with a short stick.
He has no bells, but he points and whispers
“it’s the goat,’ and so it is, a small nanny with a white bell
around her neck. Now there is music everywhere -
horns and cellos and violins.
The roof opens and above there is a river of stars
floating in a black sky. You have bread and milk
and a house made of sound steering you back to that other shore.
Steve Klepetar lives in the Berkshires in Massachusetts. His work has received several nominations for Best of the Net and The Pushcart Prize.