i dreamed my name

i dreamed my mother

i dreamed i was a rotting log

of mushrooms pushing through my damp, cracked skin

i dreamed of an old friend

i dreamed of a gardening lesson

i dreamed i gave birth to an owl

a rock

a mountain

i remembered white flags of fleece, clumped on barbed wire, felting in the wind and rain

your hands and mine

i dreamed of a box of eggs

i dreamed of a spider’s bite

i dreamed my father named me

i remembered the woman he sold me to

the coins clinking in his pocket

and the way she laughed and rode away.