These little lines came to me in a dream last night - just as they are - and I'm only too glad I remembered them when I woke up. I lost some rhythmic patterns and had to re-construct. One in a while, this happens.

by Susan Abraham

And when she stirred, he
the artful dodger,
pictured her toss a pillow as
one would slip a winding nightfall out
the window
before secrets be named and shamed.
She of course, the silent exemplary saint.
And so now he went to her... ready
to embrace the halo from where she slept,
while still clasped in a waiting
angel's palm.