If This Is Real
A poem about recurrent dreams
I was out of work And back at school Even though I’m 42 I hesitated at the gate Better never than always late.
The teachers waited in the class In waking worlds those days have passed When I was there All was well I’m back again But I can’t tell.
If this is real Or I am wrong I thought those doubts Were all long gone I couldn’t tell you Why they’re here When I awake They disappear.
Or do they hide From open eyes? Or do we fail To realise? Or will our sleeping self despise What we become When we arise?
I caught sight of my father’s face Emotion that I could not place Silence from which I should learn About his unspoken concern.
About the boy who never shared Who thought his father never cared I go to tell him it’s a dream But sleep leaves and he disappears.
In waking hours I’m not sure Of what I was and what I saw Of where I stand and who I am Still the boy Or now the man.






