I dreamed I was in a movie
Why can’t I just dream I’m in a dream
In which the lions before the New York Public Library
Stand up and walk away

But that was only prologue to the prophetic dream
In which my father in the underground den
Glanced about with eyes full
Of defeat exhaustion sadness pain and memory

Eyes so different from the commanding eyes
I always saw him wear like lion in life
Yet years later fleetingly I saw again those dream eyes
He looked around without ever turning his pillowed head