Dream Cuts 1
A knitting circle of white-haired women talk about me as they ply their needles.
The top floor of a department store: expensive leather easy chairs and sofas being shipped away: the store is closing forever.
Needing a piece of thread to fix something, I pull the monogram off a woman’s blouse, and apologize tenderly.
A woman, lying on a bed of dense gray clouds thousands of feet above the earth, begins to fall. I will be next.
In the dewy grass where my foot has just missed stepping on it, a half-hidden, shiny CD with the handwritten label “Richard C.”