CART

In dreams I can drive
Not cars but horse carts
My hands easy on the reins
Talking to the horses
Who know all my stories
But listen anyway.
In the cart behind me
The cat-headed man dozes
Holding still his crook'd staff.
Some debt is between us
But which way it runs
I have long forgotten.
If I asked the Lvoviner
He might be able to tell me
But he is a long four years dead
And liable to be cranky.