Paul unpacked his dreams
in the wrong language.
His fear of not being understood
fumbled away all the umlauts.
Now refugees, his dreams
wandered into other people’s sleep.
Immigration services refused to find his dreams.
Paul cried into his hands.
His damp hands smeared the paperwork.
Reduced the number of pills in the prescribed bottle.
Far too few pills to sleep once.
No where near enough to meet his ancestors.
On the way home, Paul drove by
one of his dreams sitting at the bus stop.
His solitary dream refused to enter his car
for a ride home.
It claimed to be in the process of self actualization
with a bus ticket to Dyersville, Iowa.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney
Note: Dyersville, Iowa is the town nearest to the Field of Dreams site.