Mansion of the Dead
Dreamed between 1975, 6 or 7 by Kathleen Raine
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How did I come, last night,
To that great mansion of the dead, Night-house whose empty rooms were dense with fear? Why did I dread their presences, who had been dear, My heart throb with terror Lest I see faces not human That once shone on me with familiar love? |
NOTE FOR PURISTS
I renamed this from Raine's generic title Dream. She named at least three poems that! And she's not alone; every poet (or prose writer, or painter for that matter) seems to do this--not Cows in Space or Doorknob Orgasm or whatever the dream was--no, they record the mere fact they remembered a dream at all. Handy for those of us searching the undream world for dreams, but here on a site devoted to dreams...
SOURCE: Collected Poems by Kathleen Raine, 2001, p. 219
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