A Letter from the Past
Pools, empty pools
Reflecting a narrow beam of light
Ever broken into fresh irregular blotches.
If dreams came true ….
Do they?
Do dreams cross
The thin hairline
That separates them from
Reality?
A hairline … or a gulf,
A chasm too wide to bridge.
And the mind, hopping like a monkey,
Surveys the other shore
With ever-increasing doubt.
Yesterday …
A dream came true–
A letter awaited for long years,
Tangible, crumpling in my fevered hands–
Too good to be true!
No! It’s not for me to keep.
It doesn’t belong to the Present:
I’ve thrown it away
Like my adolescent years;
Watched it burn
With masochistic glee.
It belongs to the Past
I shall never dream of again.
I clipped the wings
Of the wild bird in the Forest;
Crushed the wild flower
Till the petals stank …
Just like my dreams.
Nice!
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