Dreams #3 Poem by alexandre arnau

sitting
on a wrought iron
park bench
she asked about my family
while eating flowers
and glowing music

'they're all gone
it's just me'
i replied

'oh, how nice'
she replied
and with a tear
she revealed my story
leatherbound
and ancient

'here is how
you end'

she showed me
pictures of my daughter
and pressed flowers
while she continued
her meal
of chrysanthemum
and magnolia

'why did you do that? '
she asked

'i couldn't help it
you weren't here'
i replied

floating up into
a pink swirled sky
she rained down
golden blood
while singing
our name
before finally bursting
into a storm of bluejays

everyone in the park
stared off at the
flock of her
then
turning to me
began to throw filth

i ran

i ran until i came
to the sea
where she waited
in the water
but in cowardice
i turned to the forest
and entered
the soft
warm
darkness
alone
and slept
with my kin
under the ancient roots
of kingly trees
licking my fingers
and waiting
for tomorrow