November Dream

 

I walked on into the large room.
She needed to finish something; so I
Went on ahead.  I stood aside not willing
To sit.  She wouldn’t find me if I did.
People stared.  I wasn’t dressed like
Them and leaned upon a hiking
Stick with a silver handle.  Then

An argument broke out among the
Seated cliques bent upon having their
Own way.  They shouted
Angrily about the seating. 
I Leaned against a wall.  She
Wasn’t coming.  A lady I knew
Casually whispered it was time I

Found a seat and handed me 
A note.  “This will be the
Third time” she said and left.
I searched the crowd.  Perhaps
She hadn’t seen me and now sat
Somewhere in their midst.
Perhaps she was in trouble

Outside.  I looked for a
Way out.  I knew I
Wouldn’t return once
The doors had closed.
Finally I was at the river
Using my hiking stick as a
Monopod to steady a new lens.

There was something in the trees
The automatic focus struggled
To make clear.  I looked up but by
Then it was gone.  What was my job
Once it had gone, to keep on looking
Or return home?  Struggling
To know which, I woke.