You disappear in your dreams.

In your place

someone else.  A man beside you

who he will do what is asked of him:

build a pergola or lay the brick patio,

fix the bathtub drain, pulling out long strands

of golden hair.  Your perfectly well-behaved children will be

perfectly well-behaved, seen,

never heard, dusty with the day.

The manicured lawn stretches

emerald; summertime shadows

chasing mile after lazy mile,

disappearing

in the morning light.