Inclement Weather Poem by William B. Deutscher

Quarter past four of the morning darkly,
sleet taps outside and a dream awakens me.
I can't quite remember the dream now,
although I know you were in it somehow.
I think I dreamed of meeting you out there,
lost in the hard black freezing air.
This was just a dream that faded in bed,
leaving only fragments of thought instead.
At the beginning of another ice-slapped winter day,
I lie in bed thinking of my dream that's gone away.