This week’s poem, delayed by technical and other issues, is the result of residues from a very vivid dream.

Subconscious

I woke when the Eritreans arrived, two men and a woman, dusty but dignified,

begging shelter for their illegal countrymen.

Somehow they had heard of hidden rooms readied under our floor.

We were recently reunited, deep in conversation when they burst in,

I had to tear myself from your eyes to focus,

but shaking myself, rising, I felt my blood flood with adrenaline,

the softening effect of reunion seeping away,

time now for action

and then I awoke.

Dhaka 2015