Alarms, bells, shouting, mower loudly goes this is the stuff that wakes me up grows, bellows, down ears to toes thunder, lightning – fright’ning blood shot eyes – bright’ning screech owl screaming my dreaming waking now.   – Sandra Johnson, 6/27/21  

The sky illuminated. You, waking. Blue eyes among the strands of your long hair, on the pillow. You smile. Almost slow motion. Like in the movies. Could it be?