I Had A Dream Last Night
That We Sat Together
In Your Black Corolla
By Kathleen Latham
graduation tassel newly hung
from the rearview mirror,
ready to say our good-byes,
and there were words all around us.
Eddies of words, currents of words,
flowing through the car like water,
spilling from the glovebox, the console,
the tiny slot where you kept your coins.
We were submerged in word-water,
your car on the bottom of a word-water lake,
word-fish staring through the windows
waving their little word-tails,
pursing their little word-mouths,
waiting for us to choose, to speak, to act
—word upon word upon word
filling the space between us.
If only we had seen
all the things we could have said.
Kathleen Latham’s work has most recently appeared or is forthcoming in 100 Word Story, Bright Flash Literary Review, Boston Literary Magazine, and Fictive Dream. She lives outside of Boston, Massachusetts with her husband and an ornery cat and can be found online at KathleenLatham.com.