gateway

to die at sunrise in a dream with no curtains
where all colors but one have disappeared
and a shadow still warm from the night
drifts away from the bed

where a woman humming before the mirror
disentangles the young sun from the honey
of her hair and sends it up to the sky
like an orange-breasted falcon and
the room darkens and the horn
comb drops on the carpet

where a slim-winged julia wakes up among the impatiens
to a landscape of saffron and tangerine merging
into a moist horizon and summons the monarchs
by a sun salutation dance and the swarm flies
to the one-lane-road-ahead sign and
makes for the growing tower

and when the pilgrims reach the glow
at the top of the amber tower
the dream ends

Previously published in New Mexico Poetry Review and Dream Diary (Virtual Artists Collective, 2013).