Story Poetic Asides

 A Weird Dream

 

A writing group I was with

took a trip and stopped for ice cream.

I was sitting at the end,

handy to the server.

 

She gave me the ice cream,

usually a cone,

till the one who ordered it

came and got it.

 

This went on, one cone after another.

 One cone had about 14 scoops, all flavors.

I was glad when that person got theirs

because it was about to topple over.

 

Then I held a fat mint cone

topped with chocolate syrup.

A man came to get it and left,

presumably to pay for it.

 

He didn’t come back.

About ready to eat it myself,

since it was melting over my hand,

I gave it to who I thought was a server.

 

But she was on the trip like me.

I couldn’t remember what I had ordered.

When it came, it was called a fruit cup.

“Did I order this?” I asked.

 

People next to me nodded,

“Yes, you ordered that.”

A tiny thing like you get at the store

with a cardboard pull tab.

 

It was orange sherbet

with a little fruit mixed in.

I asked, “What was I thinking?”

Then I woke up.

 

What could this dream possibly mean?

Do I think I’m shorting myself in life?