A poem I dreamed then woke up and wrote down.

If I stand in this now-lonely stairwell

If I stare at this empty brick wall

Will I see your lips in the ridges

Or your shy gaze in the mortar?

If I climb to the top of this wintery hill

Where vows were made in summer

Where vows were kept in fall

And turn my back to the breeze

Will I feel your warm breath on my neck

Or see your arms outstretched in the bare branches?

If I travel to a city where we’ve never been

Free of vows, of longing, of looks leading to lips

Will a wall remain a wall?

Would a tree be just wood?

Or will a brick remind me of a stairwell remind me of a kiss

And a tree remind me of a hill remind me of a ring

So that I can never escape you like I can’t escape the wind on a hilltop

Or a sigh in an empty bed.