Haunted Dreams & Endless Waves
(prose poem)
Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, NYC, NY
I awake from a ragged, truncated sleep, in which I dreamt I was trying to kill my best friend with a large stick. Imagine that—my very best friend. I peer out the bathroom window at a pitiful half-moon struggling to stay aloft in the thin morning light. I’m sorry, little fellow, I think. Everyone has their time to fa…