chagall backdrop

In my dreams of her
we walk

through patches
of dense green

under sun so gold
that oddly casts
no shadow

she squats near
a stream

waves her hand
through the shallow
water

back and forth . . .

while I stare down at her
from too high above

I can hear
the quiet lapping

as a private darkness
closes around us

and I ask
Is there a heaven?

At that she stops
her paddling

abruptly

rises
taller than she was
in life

her face
just inches from mine

soft dimples
near her eyes
I’d forgotten

and she says
Yes, my dear
though everyone here
is starving

© Carlos Chagall, 2013