A leaf falls

l(a
le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness

I have no idea why this poem woke me up in the middle of the night. Actually, the poem didn't wake me, I had a dream that woke me up, and this poem popped into my head. I rarely ever read poetry, but today, for some reason, I read a bit of e.e. cummings. He is my favorite poet. This is my favorite poem, but surprisingly, this isn't one of the poems I read today. In fact, I forgot he wrote this. For some reason, I thought it was by Ferlinghetti, who often wrote in such a visual manner. I guess I'm starting to sound as if I understand about poetry, but I really know very little.
I've read about and enjoyed poems written by e.e. and Ferlinghetti, and of course, Joyce Kilmer. I know about him because Joyce Kilmer was born about a mile from the house where I grew up, located on Joyce Kilmer Ave. Kind of hard not to know who he was.
Back to waking up in the middle of the night.
I had this freaky dream where I was in my old neighborhood, the one where I grew up. And, for some reason, I was walking down the street, and it must have been fall. This is because I could hear the yellow and red leaves crisply snapping under my feet as I walked. I guess I dream in color.
And I felt so unbelievably lonely. I wanted to hold the hand of a friend, but no one was around. So I went and sat in my old pick-up truck, hoping my friend would see me and come out and hold my hand. The freaky part of this?
Not only did I have such an overwhelming feeling of, for lack of a better term, being overwhelmed, but the friend wasn't someone I have ever seen. I couldn't pick this friend out of a lineup, and no one was actually in my dream except me. It was just a feeling. And the pickup truck I sat in? I haven't had it since the late 90's. The truck was a wreck when I got rid of it, but in my dream it was brand new.
Lastly, the dream took place in my old neighborhood, but on a street that I didn't usually go to. It was the last street in what I would consider to be the old neighborhood, if that makes any sense.
I don't know anything about dreams, but this one is freaking me out. Not so much for the content, but for the feelings.
The overwhelming despair, the loneliness, and the fear of the unknown.
I can only guess that my subconscious is dealing with things that I am consciously choosing to ignore.
At least by writing it here, it is on paper, so to speak. For some reason, I now feel better and can deal with it.
I'm probably going to pop a Percoset or two for the pain, and also because they put me in a deep sleep.
For a guy who can barely walk, I certainly do run away a lot.

*sigh*