The Bubble

Of every dream
that could haunt me,
this one insinuates 
irresistibly,
like a bubble that might waft
across our summer garden

and, disconcerting 
chattering cat or frantic dog,
skim the children’s straining fingertips,
swirl past your sleeping face,
and beam its supernoval menace
on me, on me ….

This shimmering, hollow dream
drifts into a fitful sleep,
eclipsing companion considerations,
to hold my gaze with its power
to chill a smile
or cloud an eye;

for a brief eternity,
it fixes its stippled stare 
on me, on me ….
then, as I switch on the lamp
to face it down, 
it is gone!
.