145/365: Like a Waking Fever Dream
We were walking behind these people,
and they held hands and chatted
while they ate festival donuts,
and I followed along, thinking
We are so young here.
Look at our lean legs,
and listen to how smooth our voices are.
Then, a man with a cart nearly ran into me,
and I woke up.
I saw that they were not us at all.
I had watched them
like a waking fever dream,
striding thoughtlessly through a crowd.