Sleep spacewalk

Katherine Holme

               Sleep spacewalk
alongside childhood's railroad tracks
I dreamt of my father's death
and reminiscent mourning
with my mother meandering
beyond family misdemeanors
and divorce
               he passed on
again from the state of
my rumpled adulthood
he would never return again
he lied
               then I slumbered
to the crossroads of life and
afterlife like a bewilderment
of Midwestern dirt roads
my mother dead set in a
dwelling
               but I could go on
in the spun-out summer farmland
unpopulated as another planet
enveloped in an atmosphere
or corn-green alto-cumulus
               “Everywhere land!
Look at it!” my father celebrated
while hoary-haired standard poodles
numerous as his children
bounced like phantoms around
his abode
               not in his origins
yet not in hell all those years.