For Mildred Nash <br /> <br />Coincidence. Perhaps coincidence <br />Explains it all. Why look far out, in deep <br />For mystical solutions to make sense <br />Of how a dream disturbed more than my sleep— <br />A dream in which you sat bolt upright on <br />A Windsor chair and wore a long blue dress <br />(Ornamented with a white chiffon) <br />And on your visage bore a dark distress <br />And said your dog was dead? When I awoke, <br />I thought the dream an impetus to phone, <br />And when I did, the first words that you spoke, <br />Through sobs, were that your cat had died. Your tone <br />Was as it had been in my dream, which plain <br />Coincidence tries too hard to explain.<br /><br />David Berman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/coincidence-9/
