from In a Wood, with Clearings, it’s Spring
by Sarah Blake
If only the night held one dream instead of many.
In the next dream you dig up the bird.
In the next dream you dig in the same place and find a gun. You’ve shot someone. You weren’t supposed to return to this place where you hid the gun.
You’re an idiot in your dream.
In the next dream the horse returns. The horse startles you awake. But you are still asleep. Dreams are some wicked things.
In the next dream you are in a desert. That’s different.
You forget what grass is. What it smells like. What the shadows of trees look like across your legs.
You laugh your head off at the sight of a cactus.
In the next dream you can see the spirit of the bird that will haunt you for weeks. Her tongue makes you think all her words will come out garbled.
Then you remember all she does is sing.
Sarah Blake‘s first book, Mr. West, comes out in February 2015 from Wesleyan University Press. She is the founder of Submittrs, an editor at Saturnalia Books, and a recipient of an NEA Literature Fellowship.