quite clear, & if he submits--one
can only hope--he will, later, pray
to be part of the various
silver-green mosses & tendrils hanging from branches
over-hanging a river. In the dream we seem
the same man & woman who
each day step-out onto our porch.
Ourselves. Meat & potato-eaters,
but favored. We are ordinary,
someone dares to tell our story.