Another Dream

I'm gone sometimes,
And don't know why
Or where.
It's a place that speaks of
Timeless rainfall bringing
Green waves of wistful undulations
And sticks shaking at their trees.
When the moon shines in the window
I know I'm ready to sleep
Or dream at least until
Morning comes bounding
Through the curtain.
At least then I will
Eat lightly salted possibility
And quietly remember
Where I've been.