Tuesday, April 21, 2015

[I dreamed you were dreaming of me], a poem by James Owens


[I dreamed you were dreaming of me]
by James Owens

         
—after Andreea Ghita

I dreamed that you were dreaming of me
I was at once full
of deer and foxes
don’t come near
I cried to you over my shoulder,
laughing, but my arms
were already moving through sleep
that you refused to disavow
too late, you said

don’t you see, on my back
arched into spring,
their claws have twisted,
seeking my mute blood
.


Bio: Two books of James Owens's poems have been published: An Hour is the Doorway (Black Lawrence Press) and Frost Lights a Thin Flame (Mayapple Press). His poems, stories, translations, and photographs appear widely in literary journals, including recent or upcoming publications in Superstition Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, The Cresset, Poetry Ireland Review, and The Stinging Fly. He lives in Wabash, Indiana.


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