Ghost Dancer - Dream Poem

Ghost Dancer    
   
We dive into the Lake Pontchartrain night    
Like strangers bound by her need for a ride    
Riding the web of concrete    
Through the thick darkness    
The thirtysomething lady of my evening    
Could be my wife beaming from the crack of forever    
Even with the serious Russian visage of her grandmother    
With no berth to bed her head    
Her need for rest takes up my offer for digs    
I open the memory album of years and tears gone by    
The young woman sees herself    
In the looking glass of a woman she never met    
Her eastern European Jewish ethnicity    
Like unto my wife becomes a matchmaker    
We leaf through the pages of the past    
To the western odyssey      
With Marsha the hipster heroine    
Seen at Grand Canyon sunset    
The oracle of her fall into a chasm so deep    
That the upward climb proved formidable    
But not impossible now that this living incarnation    
Graces my space    
Our courtship becomes a modern dance    
Which glued my wife and me into a bond of love    
The young woman holds my hands    
We press our palms and raise our knuckles    
Making fiery fists joined as one
by love rekindled    
She follows my moves in our ghost dance