Dreams Poem by Ste. Anne

Very early each morning a girl sews glass beads into a mosaic.
And one by one the stars disappear from the sky.
She doesn't notice this happening
And I don't know if I should tell her.

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A blind woman wants to play her harmonica.
I guide her to the back of a vacant lot
And very quietly she begins to play.

A large van drives into the lot.
People begin setting up band instruments
Drums, brass section, people with guitars.

I worry that when they begin playing
No one will hear the blind woman.
I wake up.