I dreamt last night you
Lived nearby, not
Dead at all, but safe
In a blacksmith’s storage room,
With bolts and nails in bins
From floor to ceiling.
You came and brought me
An ivory jar,
Holding a precious fluid,
Which I took. I knew it meant
The time had come,
But I let you leave.
Later a man pushed open
The door and threw
Your body down, a wizened,
Astonishingly small body —
Rope still tied
Around the neck.
I woke and cried to my wife:
” He didn’t die
That way! There was no rope!
All that is wrong! ” She
Said, ” In
Your dream he did. ”
by Robert Bly
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