All night the dreams come.
Buried memories of former school days
blended with images from the recent past.
A coach with questionable motives.
A girl who can’t find her class.
At first she’s my blonde daughter, but then
becomes that Muslim girl from last year’s squad
who was promised to another
and married only days after graduation
in an ancient rite from another time.
Scene change: The athletic fields, tree-lined and green,
Stretch out in my imagination as if forever,
Some kind of fantasy touchdown waiting to happen.
Looking for an open door, we walk around the building,
but find nothing. I
confront the coach,
but lose the girl in the process. I can only hope
she’s in class, ignoring the teacher, Prom-dreaming,
as she stares at the silver glow of her smartphone.
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