“Half-Dream” by Ann Christine Tabaka

Gilded morning shatters sleep,

dreams cling on with tenacious teeth.

A confused reality sorting through

a fragmented emotional state.


Warm bed, cold toast.

Sensations linger throughout the day.

A boy’s voice, a woman’s smile.

A forgotten combination from

the locker in the empty hall calls out.

A swimming pool where there is none.


Fingers trace circles only the mind can see.

The scene drifts then vanishes.

Slowly sloughing off images with a shudder,

A resemblance of normality settles in.


As evening nods its head,

a whispered sigh snakes into the night.

Living in a world of half dreams,

only to begin again tonight.

Ann Christine Tabaka is a nominee for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry.
She lives in Delaware, USA.  She is a published poet and artist. She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats.    Her most recent credits are Page & Spine, The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review, Foliate Oak Review, Bindweed Magazine, The Metaworker, Raven Cage Ezine, RavensPerch, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, Longshot Island, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Scryptic Magazine Ann Arbor Review.

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