It’s Existential

In my dream
someone I don’t recognize
is reading my mind
one word at a time.

Or perhaps they’re writing,
in cursive, composing
my dream,
not reading at all.

I can’t tell.

I don’t recognize the hand
but the touch feels familiar.
Could be my own,
or maybe even yours.

I feel the touch each letter makes,
the curl of the C,
the carve of the X,
the scribble of the looping capital M.

Am I living the dream
or is the dream living me?
It doesn’t matter.
Pass the popcorn.

 

 

About the Poet:
JPDiBlasi is a native New Yorker and currently lives and writes in the Hudson River town of Ossining where she is completing her first collection of poetry. A new writer, her poems have been published in Chronogram, Pilcrow & Dagger and Little Lantern Press. She is an independent grant writer for not-for-profit agencies seeking funding for children’s mental health programs. Friends love her sense of humor.

 

 

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