An odd dream

I dreamed I was stopped by the police while driving to Oxford. I wasn't speeding per se, but hesitating about which way to go, so they pulled me over. My two passengers were none too thrilled as I was hauled into the police station and an officer started to interrogate me. He was a clever chap and lonely, too, I realized. He had found an old, old poem and wanted me to take it away and study it. Instead of giving me a ticket, he wanted me to find my penance in the poetry, because somewhere in the words I would find out what I'd done, and to come back to him and tell me what it was. He wrote down the name of the poem and the poet in scratcy scrawl that I found hard to read. But he wasn't finished with me. He made me stay in his office while he napped and I had to be on my best behaviour when he awoke and started to talk to me again. He had tasks for me and I knew that if I was poised and attentive this would be over soon, and my friends and I would be able to go on our journey.