single lines

they wrote themselves in my dream
the sun crossed the sky, a beam of light
swept across the scattered covers,
my arms flung across my chest, as if
to edit the unwanted words from that line,
or to place them perfectly where
they belonged amongst those strands of hair
turned grey over the years that passed
without having noticed how tall he has grown
and she so beautiful walking in the
deep snow and silence.
but when I woke up, the poem so
perfectly formed, each word in its place
suddenly confused by the sparkle of
dust in the last rays drifting this way
and the other, it all fell away like
sand from between my fingers.