A Dream of Hidden Nanticoke

Just had a dream that I hated to have end. I wanted to preserve it.

I had been walking along Main Street in downtown Nanticoke. It was a Nanticoke from my childhood - a thriving place full of little shops, a place clearly past its prime yet still alive and functioning, The street was full of people shopping, walking, chatting. It was winter, but not bitterly cold.

Three people stopped me on the street. They were in their twenties or early thirties, two men and a woman. They knew who I was, and invited me to join them and their friends for a get-together. I agreed. We entered one of the buildings along the street, and took the stairs to the apartment on the top floor - it seemed like we went up four flights of stairs, though none of the buildings along Main Street are that tall, and even in my dream I was winded by the third landing.

As we approached our destination I heard singing. The place we entered was spacious and decorated in what seemed like a Victorian style, much like the older buildings in Scranton that have been turned into apartments. A group of older people in their 50s and 60s were gathered around a piano being played by a nun. They were singing a song that was vaguely familiar, perhaps "Santa Lucia." My hosts introduced me to several of their housemates, also in their 30s. I admired the views from their spacious picture windows of the city's downtown and the river and mountains beyond. The woman I had met in the street flirted with me, and I flirted back. The sing-along ended, and we all applauded and cheered. I met with several of the singers, including one who was running for political office in a nearby community, some minor office involving the sanitation board, but he was very committed to it.

One of the housemates accidentally dropped a glass into the stairwell and it somehow tumbled down four flights without smashing. I offered to retrieve it, but several others beat me to it.

The dream ended shortly afterwards. There was no point to it, other than to remind me of the warmth and sense of community I have experienced in various groups I have been a part of, from college to my writing and poetry groups of recent years. So much of that has been taken away by the COVID-19 pandemic, and I long to once again be a part of it. Has all that been lost forever?

Crash the party. Dance with the prettiest girl in the room. Act like you belong.

- from "Advice to a Young Poet" by me. Really just advice to me.