Dream Monostichs - Margaret R. Akchin

  1. You have a terrible choice (dilemma really); when you wake up you can’t remember what it was.

  2. The fear of taking a test without studying. Don’t ask why you wanted to study.

  3. A dream like a camera filter, monochrome in lavender, an eerie voice and the sensation of flying.

  4. Fighting with your best friend. All you remember upon waking is her face, a stranger’s face.

  5. Driving a car; a dream before you know how to drive; veering off the road into rocks.

  6. Not so much rocks as a ditch. Not so much veering as the ditch devours the waiting sedan, you

  7. Embroider the dream in your languorous waking hours. In retelling, in white lies.


Margaret R. Akchin is a Maryland-based writer. When not writing, she can be found drinking tea and devouring every book in her path. Her poetry has appeared  in Rivener Literary.