she wakes up at 3 a.m.
with a nightmare: she is on a bridge
below her the flood, waters raging
carrying driftwood, some houses, people calling for her,
deaf she moves on to the other side
on white gown less the bouquet
a man in black suit waits for her
the water rises and then all the screams are gone
the man becomes a mist
her hands tremble
her diamond ring falls to the water below
the water rises up to her waist
she shouts for help
there is no boat and the other side dissolves with the man
a mist covers her
she closes her eyes and then she is taken away by some hands.
she wakes up grasping for breath.
her pillow is wet with tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Quite lovely how you wove the mid-crisis into a vivid dream here in this poem. A joy to read. Thanks for sharing. Ravensong