Premonition

We dream of those we want to see

Of places where we want to be

What is this train we are regularly late for

This maths exam we are never ready for

Sometimes the faces are of strangers

Are they one or made from many

Who passed us on our way day to day

But to whom we had little to say

If dreams are often life-like

What of those real-life occurrences

That can only be called dream-like

That night when we were about to sleep

I clearly heard my brother call my name

The voice came from the backdoor

What was he doing there at this hour

When he was supposed to be at home

Five hundred miles west from here

No one was seen when we went to look

The telegram soon followed of his death

After being falsely accused of theft by father

I still think he came to bid farewell to his sister

Even if no one knows if we live thereafter.