I came across this poem in quite a roundabout way.

A few days ago, it occurred to me that I don’t have stress dreams anymore. Really, that “I’ve got a final to take but didn’t even attend any of the classes and can’t find the classroom” sort of dream. Or, “it’s time to go on stage, and I really meant to memorize my lines, but hung around backstage playing cards instead.”

Gone. All gone. Seven years ago. What a coincidence; that’s when I retired.

Anyway, I went to Mom’s cache of poetry and looked for any mention of dreams.

And here’s just one of her poems I came across:

Three Brooms

The three brooms leaned against each other
weary from working on the porches
decks and patios
where was their fun in the summer colony
the sun was hot
their handles sweaty
their bristles dusty

At night they slept together
in the corner of an old fairy tale
where they were princesses
enchanted by the witch
who rode them mightily
one for most nights
one for full moons
one for her visitors who were horrible
there was no respite in their dreams

One day an artist came into the colony
to entertain
I am your brother and have come to free you
you’ll be in my ballet he said
and when I go I’ll take you with me

That night they dreamed of his ballet
the witch was gone
and when they woke next morning
they began to dance

~ joan vayo ~ 16 April 2006

Just to be clear, I still occasionally experience bad dreams. For instance, last week, as I read The Great Escape. Somehow the shadows of buzzards and vultures circling overhead in real life turned into fighter planes in my dream that night.

Whether you’re retired, still working, or making your way through school, I wish you sweet dreams and a sturdy broom to sweep up after Mister Sandman‘s visit.

---

“Three Brooms” ©2006 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

Please subscribe below to receive an email notice with each new story: