A Grieving Man

I dreamed I was comforting a grieving man
whom I knew but do not now recognize.
There was a death, of course--
what else is grieving for?--
and he couldn't be consoled.
He seemed to be a member of my family,
and how I wanted to help him,
but the depth of the tears in which we floundered
was such that I could not touch the bottom.
I am ashamed to admit that I was glad I woke
so I could turn over in my bed
and start another dream on dry land.
I can't go back; that choice was made for me 
possibly by my helplessness; 
but of course I hope that in his distant dream
where he walks he has found a little ease.

July 16 2012