Papers

I am safe. I am warm. I am alone in this bed.

I was dreaming about sleep in my sleep. In my dream, I recognize I am doing a good job.
I let myself wake up without an alarm clock. I know the sunrise will wake me.

Infallible things have fallen apart.
I cleaned sheets

of paper
off the floor —

I am arranging details about my mother with my family.
I wonder if my mother knows anything
about me.

I feel myself lying flat, lying like her — in my dream she lies flat —
slightly tilted up in the air, birds, paper doves fly around her head.

Halo.
A whirring sound.

I change my clothes. Each time I put on a new dress it’s the same dress, the same shoes, I wore the day before.

March 27, 2024
Hudson Valley, NY

Image: Mom, March 1st, 2024 © Holly Troy 3.1.2024