Break-Up in Dreamland

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A mysterious woman deserted me last night.

But not before I had chased her

Through a fanciful city -

Part modern urban metropolis,

Part post-war, Vienna, Austria,

Hazy hometown for a couple years 

During my impressionable youth.

I often find myself there

Tracking down some imagined 

Or remembered waif of my dreams.

She rises as our streetcar slows to a stop.

Definitely Vienna now.

"You will be back won't you?" I ask.

"Maybe," she replies,

Her face still averted,

Identity familiar, yet

Still maddeningly vague.

"In the spring, 

Or perhaps the following year."

I might have kept her from leaving,

But somehow I got trapped

There, in that tiny landing,

Where the stairs meet the door - 

Past the line upon the floor

Beyond which you are not supposed to stand.

A stack of coats had appeared in my arms.

And for some quite important, 

But now forgotten, reason

I had to put them all on before 

Pushing past the collapsing doors.

Finally free upon the pavement, 

I looked around and saw she was

Well and truly gone.

As was the streetcar,

And the street, for that matter.

My breath slowed,

And I turned my pillow,

Seeking that cool side

Which always, somehow, slips away.

I smiled, listening to

My wife breathing quietly

Across the landscape of 

sheets and comforters.

"There!" I thought, looking for a spot

To place the final period.

A few more rounds of shadow boxing,

Here just beyond dreamland,

And it may make a decent poem.

It owes me that

Considering the slumber

It has cost me.

.