Daydream

Home now…

I’m daydreaming that a beautiful widow,

from Albania or Poland, (it has to be a 

Slavic country I think), rich and bored

reads my poetry and decides she’ll come

to Tepoztlan, surprise me, and take care

of me for the rest of my life. 

It’s a practical daydream, at least.

It’s also deja vu from a previous time

when I also was on the edge of a cliff, 

in this life, 

not knowing what would happen next. 

Not a pleasant feeling, so I daydream.

Wouldn’t you?