Almost awake

Getting out of the dream,
not quite awake, no word yet spoken
I try to linger on for more,
but church bells ring,
and curtains move, a bird is singing,
a toilet flushed.

So now the dream forsakes me,
and I become its traitor,
it does not want me woken,
starts slipping, already grudging
as I let go.

It will take
the memory away from me
before I can remember.
Before I know my name again.