She gets into bed accompanied by a whisper of rain like a tentative apology, lulling her into a fitful sleep. It drips through her dreams, punctuating them with watery full stops. So many dreams, like the flicker books she loved as a child, only the pictures change too quickly, from the first day of lockdown, through all the minor irritations, to a full-scale row, while the steady drips crescendo into an ocean-like roar. A flash of lightning illuminates the room as his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream, and she sits up, marooned in the expanse of the double bed.
“So sorry I woke you,” her husband says in a loud whisper against the clatter of rain against the window.
He slips under the covers and raindrops from his hair soak the pillow. She moves closer to the edge. Is it only a dream?
Kim M. Russell, 11th May 2020
My response to dVerse Poets Pub Prosery: Maya Angelou
Björn is back again to host Prosery with a line from Maya Angelou’s poem ‘Caged Bird’: “his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream”. I love that poem!