I had a dream last night that I was fired.
Nobody actually told me in person.
I didn’t even get a letter.
I just heard it in a rumor
And I could tell from the demeanor
Of the people around me
That I was expected simply to pack up my desk
And leave.

A couple of the attorneys I work for,
Who considered themselves my friends,
Stopped by to chat in a friendly manner.
Though I could tell they were nervous.
I was polite to the very end, and
Never asked any of the
Pressing, impertinent questions.
I just let them go like they were letting me.

The dream had all the usual touches
Of the surreal.
In it, I absorbed the bad news
while fashioning giant candles out of clear, blue wax
like glass or water.
I turned the wax frothy white and pink
as I rolled it between my hands, and made the candles as tall as the sky.
It could only have been a dream, though it was chillingly real.

I woke to find myself in the same world
I dreamt of
A world where fortunes die
While would-be friends watch
Unable to speak the words
That need to be spoken
Or do what needs
To be done.