My daughter woke up
still trapped in a dream with ghosts
and as her small body tucked in bed
next to mine and her breath settled to steady
I thought about those rare dreams of ghosts.
It is a lovely thing
that she has not lost anyone
so she does not crave
their nighttime visits the way I do.
I look forward to a dream visit from my mother-their frequency as unpredictable
as she was during her life.
I cannot remember what she looks like
outside of old photographs.
But when I see her in dreams,
she is alive again.
I see her again.
I hear her again.
I feel her with me
I whisper this to my daughter’s sleeping back. That the ghosts that woke her tonight
will be welcome one day
but for now she should sleep
here with me
where we are both alive and breathing.