A dream. I’m confronted by a bully, with a jeering crowd behind him. I stand my ground. He presses.
A lucid dream. Something shifts. The bully nervously backpedals. I step toward him, instantly in his face. He throws an ill-considered punch. I have him on his back in seconds. Standing over him, calmly, I say, “If you ever…”
awakening
to morning light
a robin sings
I’m late for guest-pub-tender Truedessa’s Tuesday Poetics for dVerse.
Frank J. Tassone 
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