Sleep (No Rest)

I dreamed I saw a little town A mile of dust away I walked along the footpath bridge Just at the break of day I must've come upon low times And needed now to eat Looked for "breakfast open" signs There was no one on the street The counter seats were empty Tables empty, too Cook said you can seat yourself "Nearest chair will do" The buffet stretched from wall to wall Like it I'd never seen Set just like a New Year's ball No one there but me Said I was glad to beat the rush First pickings at the feast He said, "There won't be no one by Not man, nor beast." I said, "Why do you make all this If no one passes through?" He said, "That's what I've always done It's just what I do." My belly warm as circled stones Caging in a fire Paid the bill and wandered out Curious and tired Thinking of a face I guess Unnamed, gentle and lost I made a hundred steps and found An old dressmaker's shop Gowns of white and black and red Purple, gold and gray I thought about the parties fair And weddings on the way And all the dresses made by hand Not a one the same Thimbled fingers stitching lines Waiting to be claimed I said, "There are some lucky girls You have made these for." She said, "I haven't met them yet No one comes in my store." I asked, "Why do you make them When they just sit out for view?" She said, "That's what I've always done It's just what I do." The sun was up; the heat was strong I spied around for shade I saw a chapel across the square Thought it good I'd pray Heard a voice as I went in My eyes adjusted slow Ambled in to take a seat On the next to last row The preacher's voice was calm and sure The choir loft was bare As sight came back I came to find I was alone in there I asked, "Why do you do this When nobody's in the pew?" He said, "It's what I've always done I'll do it now for you."