Dreams of Eurydice

I dreamed last night of you in a crowd

walking with a rose, the pink one I bought you, pulling

away its petals letting them fall to the ground.

You were looking for me, you were with someone else.

I was gone.

I had another dream of an eerie street of brownstones

dark except for the sole decayed light bleeding orange

leading to a basement structured in steel painted in dripping black

a Man inside, sitting at an empty wooden table

in there alone, brooding with a crimson face

He turned

and His eyes shot through me as if to say

she is gone and there is nothing.

A car on the street pulled up to the curb, a brown rusted Cadillac

and the window rolled down smoke pluming out and I couldn't see in.

Eurydice, the wind whispered, and the car took off.

Through a fence with barbed wire I watched lightning strike

the ocean, a flash of a wave being surfed by a man under gunpoint.

In a wet jungle, lightning shone on the path as I searched for you

stealthily maneuvering around guerillas, winding trunks and 

slapping leaves to sinking mud and walls of trenches.  

Crawling through this never 

ending maze I cried out to the wind, rain 

pouring into my mouth.  

The wind didn't answer.

The rain stopped 

and not another bolt of light.  

Then, I woke up.