Last night
I dreamt of the turned earth
of the smell and feel of it in my hands
I dreamt of a greenhouse in March
of warm dampness and green
Last night
I dreamt of machinery stilled
of tractor and backhoe and excavator, silent
I dreamt of trees wakening in the sun
of small buds bursting forth
Last night
I dreamt of soft words spoken
of forgiveness and peacemaking
I dreamt of calloused hands on my skin
of teeth and hot mouth on my neck
Last night
I dreamt I was back where I belonged
Last night
I dreamt of you
