Dead Dreams Poem by Edwina Reizer

Dead dreams, where do they go,
dreams that come out of the blue?
Are they drifting somewhere in the air above
because they all are through?

The older I get the more I dream.
They are an escape from too much living.
I connect with friends in improbable scenes
and it makes me more forgiving.

For some of the people I dream about
have died long ago.
But I can bring them back to life
for an hour or so.

They look the same as when I knew them.
But when I awake they're gone.
I always wonder if they knew
that they lived in my dream before dawn?

Just when I think I've dreamt it all
a crazy one comes to me.
These are the dreams that I don't forget
so they're never dead to me.