Dream by Tim Rudall

Alone, apart, detached from rational careering
Now veering between highways and cotton-wool D-roads
A near miss that - phew – honk your bell at the culprit
One broad field ahead, floating, snooze-control…Oh Shit!
What’s this? Hello Pete! Been a while, how’s your dog?
Those shoes were once lost. Now they’re back…and they’re pink
I’ll try them if I can see past my knees through the fog.
A crack somewhere. Or the radiator behind my bed.

One stage of lucidity, then I’m dozing anew
Now I’ve gained some control let’s be off again. Round two.