I dreamed this morning that I was the guest poet slated to read during an arts festival at a small college. The organizer of the events was around my age or maybe a little younger, and he was looking forward to my reading. I was being treated as an honored guest around the students, and there were some leather armbands that were made and distributed to the festival attendees that had words from one of my poems weaved in gold-colored thread into the black armbands. I remember feeling a bit nervous about the reading, but I knew that I would do a good job. I was going to read my very strongest work and work that works the best when read aloud. There was some sort of complication with the arts festival that was going to delay my reading an hour or so. In the dream I never got to read my poems.