O’Malley woke.
He’d dreamt of being in this city,
a place he did not know.
Tiled river gutters renewed like rain
cobblestone streets and alleys;
living temple of inert connection.
He was in search of a certain
bread—necessary in the dream and
unknown to him when awake.
He dared not stir once
in his bed. He felt a grasping
and did not want that, this
strength of life force, to dissipate
too soon, lest he rise to get
his coffee.
Karen Helman lives in the San Francisco Bay area. Her poetry has appeared in Inlandia and Viewless Wings and as part of the City of Dublin (California) 2023 Poetry Walk.