In the dream we all stayed in the fathers' house and planned the wedding on the arrival of the groom. We wanted to swim in the river which was bath warm and technicolor green and spangled, but too much was in the way. The boys played a game of baseball on the stoop below the house, and though they had no bat, no gloves, just stuff from the lot to kick around and throw, and though the house above us on the hill let its machinery fall down on us, they stayed around and tossed things in the air. The man and the woman living in the house above us left their windows open and the the gauze curtains fluttered in the breeze. They were out looking for his father's ghost. When the groom arrived I saw it was you, and I wasn't surprised though I'd fled from you in those years when no pause was given for caring. "Okay then," I said, "let's be happy."
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