In the Alcove of the Unasked

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Sanaa invites the dVerse poet community to delve into their dreams as a rich source for literary expression. I have been attempting this the last little while and offer this nugget in the raw for self-edification more than anything!

I walked the long coast,
salt in my lungs,
hunger in my bones,
seeking a table not yet set.
The café was hollow,
a shell of welcome,
bare but for one alcove
where laughter gathered like tide.
I asked to sit
not knowing if I belonged
and they made room,
as if grace were a game
played by strangers
who knew the rules of kindness.
They spoke in riddles,
a missing word,
a misting truth,
and I, still faint from the walk,
asked if the question itself
was broken.
Is it “missing”
like a name forgotten,
or “misting”
like memory blurred by time?
And they nodded,
not with answers,
but with presence.
So I sat,
Stockman’s pie in hand,
and let the mystery feed me.

(c) Dennis Ryle, November, 2025

Published by wonderingpilgrim

Not really retired but reshaped and reshaping. Now a pilgrim at large ready to engage with what each day brings.

8 thoughts on “In the Alcove of the Unasked

  1. The lines in your poem meander like a long walk, Dennis, and I love the phrase ‘laughter gathered like tide. I’ve had a dream once in which people spoke in riddles – very disconcerting. Best to let the mystery feed you.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This poem just flows – and that too so beautifully as we are led to contemplate what it means, the salt in lungs and hunger in bones. I read this twice!

    Thank you so much for writing to the prompt ❤️❤️

    Like

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