I Dreamt My Mother Died

Let me start by saying: when I woke

I knew it wasn’t true. She wasn’t gone,

I hadn’t wept real tears, I didn’t 

have to find a way to tell my brother—

whose number I do have—what happened,

and he didn’t have to blame me, for that

or anything else. And in the darkness

of her room, where on and off I’ve slept 

since her last fall, I knew she would return.

That she would soon be well, enough 

to climb these stairs and find her own place

to rest. And knew this, too: that one night

would bring a different dream, disguised 

as solace—and wake instead to grief.


Hannah Silverstein

Hannah Silverstein is a graduate of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College. A 2021 Best of the Net finalist, her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Passengers Journal, Passages North, Barnstorm Journal, Dialogist, Orange Blossom Review, West Trestle Review, Cider Press Review, LEON Literary Review, Whale Road Review, and others. She lives in Vermont.