Why Do I Dream

Poem - by Lisa Timpf

For Emma

I dreamt you again last night

and your eyes gleamed

brown-gold, like in the springtime

of your years, when you propped

paws on the window ledge, 

looking into the house,

your gaze inviting me

to come outside and play.

If only we’d known 

how fast time flows.

All too soon, I found myself

taking you for that final ride.

At the door, I turned back 

to where you lay 

on the vet’s steel table

still, as though sleeping,

and I imagined, absurdly,

just for one frozen moment, 

that you might pop up 

from your lofty perch, 

and follow.

My heart leaped

like the twilight rabbits 

you loved to startle,

and I yearned to say, I take it back,

it was all a mistake, I wasn’t ready—

but some things can’t be reversed

and besides, for your aged body,

it was time, and time.

Since that day, I’ve tried 

to loose the leash that holds you to my heart

yet still at night I dream you,

and you feel close,

as if your soul might track me 

as you voyage through the stars,

as if a whistled call might bring you

racing home again.