Dreams are strange things to me. They never seem to tell a story, they simply hint at what the story might be. I never see faces or get to have a conversation. I'll see a pair of hands, the back of a head, or the sense of a voice that belongs to someone I know - I know that much but not exactly who it is. I can only guess. I do wish dreams didn't tease so much and just came out with it. Cool poem, Mr. Plummer.