The Nap

The ceiling fan pushing,

no, dropping the air down

in the rhythm of the blades

going round lulled me to sleep,

to take a nap

                    something I rarely do,

but I was thinking of you

and that you I have yet

to know so i drifted into dream,

one of love.

                   Of course, the edges

were erotic.  What is love without

touch?  Indeed, what is the divine

without it and what is more divine

than love between two willing to risk

what can only be found here?

                                           So I thought

as I dozed off, "a twenty minute

power nap."  Nearly three times

as long when the cat nipped 

my dangling arm by some cat

logic.

          So I awoke longing,

desiring, confused

                            just like when I

awake in the morning.

The nap didn't do a damn thing,

no more clarity than if

I'd slept through the night.

Of course, I'd have to say,

most dreams are like that --

even the ones that have come true.

-Byron Hoot