Eyes closed with pillow embraced in a tight hug my dream emerges.

I flip the other way slightly awakened from the bathroom door being shut.

My dream is interrupted.  With eyes closed, I hold on to the last visual.

Window open, I hear a car driving into the cul de sac.  I return to my dream hungry.  It’s almost noon.

I am in a nook with few people around sitting on the counter with their backs turned on me.

A small cafeteria like café, with a glass display where I see a tray of baked lasagna.

Soundly, I hear voices in laughter from the building across the street.  Cars are passing by.  The night guard’s mobile phone beeps.

Back in my dream I ask for a salad and the cook behind the counter holds up a bag full of lettuce.

I ruffle my feet underneath the sheets and lay on my back.  Faintly, I hear my daughter in the living room tidying up her books and school papers for class tomorrow.

Somewhere in between dreaming and sleeping, I think about my other daughter away from home. 

I sleep soundly grateful that they are well but never deeply for a mother’s thoughts linger endlessly in sleep between here and there.