Doux

Past the Apocalypse

My mother tells me about her mid-afternoon dream.

She's back in the village where she
was born, with all her brothers and sisters,
and there is a flood

and there has been an earthquake.

(she knows it with a certainty that is
only possible in dreams)

And she's sweeping floodwater off
the courtyard, and a white thing floats up.
It's a corpse. A male, six feet tall, very handsome.
It smells. She doesn't recognize the face.

She goes to consult a brother:
A corpse floated up in the courtyard,
what should we do? No one is fazed,
it happens often, apparently.

Are you sure,
that it isn't still alive?

She wakes up then. But she was sure,
she tells me. It was rotting.

(she knows it with a certainty that is
only possible in dreams)

And in the fleeting afternoon light
The sun setting and
heat sticking to our skin,

I see a future.

I see floodwater
blood water
floating up my doorstep.
I see a dream.

I think she knew who the corpse was.

I pull on a sympathetic face to mask my fear.