Imaginary Friend

"I have a feeling
I've been here before,"
I said.

"Not here, just
somewhere similar,"
he smiled.

Gold light sky,
bright, velvet dusk,
eternal twilight,
summer dreams
of roses and pinks,
tiger lilies and cattails.
My head soaked
in the dew of evening.
Amazed by sounds
of grasshoppers,
crickets, and frogs
on that day when
night never came.

"I have a feeling
this is more real than life,"
I giggled.

He soberly replied,
"No, you know better
than to believe that."

Cloud freckled sky,
gentle thunder long
off in the distance.
Hands now fondled,
and lips now caressed,
two heads turned in
toward the path of desire,
always new and
always pleasant,
but never fulfilled.

"I have a feeling
you are going to leave,"
I sighed.

"It's closing in
on that time again,"
he said.

Dream mist deceived
my bed's reality
of solitary occupation.
Dream whispers
desired and denied,
forever entangled
in the net of hope,
while fear threatened
with a bully fight.
Time cycled you
in and out of this
as I listened in
gray anticipation,
for your call
to go back to our
dream garden at dusk.