Dreams by CL Gingerich

I still can't tell
whether the dreams
I'm having
are real or not.

They come to me.

They come in the evening
when the shadows
find their faces
in the Sun's light.

I know not what they mean.

They slide between
my consciousness
and my lidded eye,
dancing in the sunset.

O, if only these dreams would
dissipate into the midnight sky.