Dreams Insubstantial

This dream I hold in my memory,
still ever vivid after my return to the waking world,
so vivid I can replay it in my head,
like a movie watched enough times
that each quote is anticipated.

But as the day wears on,
the dream becomes fickle,
tantalizing me in an elusive dance,
now but a silhouette behind the
hazy veil of memory.

The ghosts of my dream still haunt me
as the day wanes into the evening.
Ever-fading glimpses into the nocturnal world,
departing into oblivion--
but I only mourn for a moment.

For I know that, like everything else,
dreams do not last forever.
And once I drift off again into my next slumber,
the void that was left behind
will be replenished again by another dream.