Embarrassing Dream

The day before the obituary ran,

I felt in terrible shape,

weeping about one thing and another,

feeling, I suppose, that this made it final,

since I was the one who said it.

I couldn’t drop off to sleep for hours,

and when at last I did, woke up from this dream:

Carolyn was on top of the bed in her nightie,

cheerfully talking to all in the room.

My old friend Pete was one of those present,

and he said: She sure looks alive to me, Peter.

Then her oncologist stuck his head in the door

and said laughing: I read in the paper you died!

Being painfully well-accustomed to blunder,

I thought, This is your all-time worst!

How could you?

You must have hit Send while practicing!

But why were you practicing? Why?

And I woke up writhing in embarrassment,

twisting and turning in the bedclothes.

When I finally began to go back to sleep,

I felt myself falling into the same dream,

but stayed awake till I didn’t.

Thus commenced days of grieving.