A poem by Aeschylus (c. 525 – c. 456 Before Christ )

by Ajmer Rode

If you have forgotten your dream

don’t worry

I saw it with my own eyes.

The figure that stood before you

with a bouquet of fresh roses was

not me

The arm that wrapped round your

waist tightly was not mine, nor the fingers

that stroked your hair.

The umbrella that suddenly escaped from

your hand and disappeared in the sky

was me

leaving you free

in the rain

to walk, laugh, run and slip

before you awake.

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