Dreaming

Dreaming, dreaming,
Of you, sweetheart, I am dreaming,
Dreaming of days when you loved me best,
Dreaming of hours that have gone to rest.

Lost (won’t say “my”) car yesterday.
Went to the garage in back to get a music stand out of car trunk—garage empty.
Here’s a fine howdy-do.

Stolen? Could be, but, nah, probably left it somewhere.
Tell Robin? could keep it secret—told her, she was merciful.
Always that question, “Are we losing it?”

Car, if left somewhere, just a problem to solve, but when driven last even?
Past couple days a blank, pretty much.
Can put ‘em back together: poems made, tunes played.

Now be Saturday morning, or Sunday morning, really.
Thing is, never take car if not too far to walk.
Checked journal (pen scratching now), when was car used last?

Wednesday: Blue Moon met with Nora about Silence, getting the most out of each other;
Gnome, very sweet meeting, Beth, Alice, and Althea.
Thursday: Got Silence into Common Good Books.

Blue Moon a lot farther away than Common Good Books, but pretty definitely by foot,
but why drive the car to Common Good Books?
Got haircut Thursday too, right across the street.

Pretty good feeling about that Thursday possibility.
Take Robin’s Subaru the few blocks, immediately see red car parked up right side of Grand.
Sure enough, licence plate MZG, that’s the amazing red Corolla, formerly UVA, my little grape.

Legally parked, looks like, music stand out of trunk, Subaru home.
Biggest problems: 1) the temporal location of the narrative present;
2) pronouns—“I” is just a ghost.