How I Dream Without You

Nights I row to the middle
of a smooth and deep lake,
the boat sliding like a skater
across the water,
oars tugging
at the moon's reflection.
Trees crowd the shore,
a circle of spectators,
and stars signal approval
as I slip in without
a splash,
bursts of air
balloon to the surface
and silt rises in a rusty cloud.

Before waking,
I drop a chain to the bottom,
drag it across the bed,
pulling up stones, silvery fish,
and finally, wrapped in weeds,
a body.