No Longer September

I had some dreams this morning before I came fully awake. Strange dreams. Easy to remember. Easy to mistake for real until you try to describe them. As soon as you start putting sentences together, you realize none of it makes sense. But the sensations were so real. So familiar. People I know but no longer know. Things I expect to happen but don't expect to happen. Things I wish to say but know I won't. Things I once thought I would hear but never did. I was laughing when people were shooting at us. That's how you know it was a dream. But the other stuff. Finding my face in a sketchbook. Finding things I'd written that hadn't been read. Those things could have happened. But they didn't. And the casual ease with which the conversations started only exists in the dream state. We don't even say hello.

It's cold. But not cold enough.

Deep in December it's nice to remember
although you know the snow will follow.
Deep in December it's nice to remember
without the hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December it's nice to remember
the fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December our hearts should remember and follow.