Turning Point of the Story

Awakening from nights full of dreams
I'm not sure about consciousness.
Time slips and faces who have gone
predominate today.

Half recognized scenes,
bizarrly, oddly familiarly animate.
I nod at ghosts.
Sleep after sleep,

greet old friends
as if I were journeying back
after a war, hail farewell,
in part, rehearsing the future.