The Dream — Summary

The speaker lies next to a lover and insists that her tears or her lover’s laughter will not matter—but she still takes comfort in feeling that presence beside her. Then she describes a dream that turns that comfort into dread. In the dream, she wakes to harsh white moonlight, a loose shutter screeching and swinging as if blown by wind, though no wind blows. The stillness feels unnatural and frightening. She reaches toward her lover for comfort, only to find the space empty. Instead of warmth, her hand touches cold moonlight. The poem returns to the opening almost in reverse: she again says she will not care if her lover laughs and her weeping will not matter, yet the last line admits how good it is to feel that presence there. Her offhand words sound like self-protection, as if she is trying not to need anyone too much. The mood is intimate and eerie—a quiet nighttime moment shadowed by the fear of being left alone.