Poorly placed bookends with simple dreams modestly better than life. Surely he remembers me! When he wakes, his eyelids part slowly, and he looks to me soon after, but seems puzzled with what he finds. I’m somehow different than he remembers, either more man or more dog than the dream would have him believe. A quick stretch to tie the thoughts together, and again he rests his head. When I dream, will I follow him? This brotherhood is not enough. I can’t shake the thought that we both miss running together, in truer shapes than these! But the snow outside the window calls me back, and back again. Now I remember why we sleep.