It’s always the same dream—
English soldiers
brandishing angry torches.
The wooden beams
of our barn ignite
into a cage of flames.
And I’m trapped in the rafters.
I scream until my lungs explode,
but no one hears me.
No one arrives to help.
The devilish heat licks my boots,
kindles my hair.
My dress blooms
into a blazing carpet.
The ground beneath the barn
opens as a wound,
and I’m swallowed
straight to hell.
I wake in wild sweats.
What does this dream mean?