Wolf Moon

Last night I had a dream that I was in my blue and gray nightgown that I wore every night as a child. I was running out of my house and it was one of those dreams where you seem like an adult and you think like an adult but you look just like you did as a child or at least the way  you perceive yourself to look as a child which is often quite different than what you actually looked like.
In the dream I am running  and it is summer just like every dream that I have from that address in East Hartford Ct. It seems like the blizzard of 78 never happened there and I actually never did sled down the hill on Barbonsel Rd because all of my memories exist in that time warp of warm childhood summer days and nights.
And I am running with hair flying all around me and little child legs that can run forever and the reservior where I am not supposed to go alone lay at my back and the park where I spent every day that Mother Nature would allow sprawled out before lay in front of me, clear as a bell amidst darkness.
In the dream I am going to free everybody. I am going to run through the park and across the baseball field and I am going to arrive at Stevens Elementary School and I am going to throw the doors open and let everyone out, no more papers, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks. I am going to watch them as they all run home or to the park or through the field or to the foreboding reservoir to dive in after a shallow fish.
I am going to run to the elderly nursing home and open all the doors there and I am going to start pushing people out and watch as the elderly take to the streets in all of their limitations and crankiness or wild fervor. And  I am thinking about my own Grandmother locked away sitting across from me at a dinner table a few years ago when she was 93 years old telling me never to let anyone tell me what to do as my father told her what to do.
It must have been the full wolf moon but in my dream I am still in my childhood state but I am thinking of my current job where I lock people up and put them away. I categorize their problems and limit their stories. As a profession I can take away freedom. And in my child state I run to let them out.
It must have been the wolf moon because when I swung open the dream like mental hospital door I was standing there with my adult face staring back at me and my adult badge flapping in the wind and my professional outfit on. I looked at me, chubby cheeked child faced me, and me looked back and we both looked down to my feet where I had my running sneakers on

and I began to run.