Tuesday, January 5, 2016

These Weird Breeze Riding Dreams... (Dreams in Flight II)

Somewhere, distant bells ring ~

Escape Artist Me makes my run
down the sunken, weed-grown and leaf
encroached pavement blocks.

Leaping with every young fiber of me
onto a clear windwall of misted air
and along the block, I glide, and I glide...

Past the drives, past the lawns, past
the pinched faces and pointing fingers,
over their heads and their rock-kicking feet.

Slight arrow speeding
with curled-toe ease
that means
this dream
knows me,
I know it,
that's why
I'm running
away, away,
and I know
I'm gliding
not truly flying,
I know.

And I know,
I'm risking
a crash
to avoid fear and fall,
I know...

I know.

Rudely, the phone rings... 

Unknown Caller

The Sun isn't up, yet.  But I can already tell what kind of day it's going to bring.

My feet hit the floor. 



eric1313 said...

...Not bad! I like it when I type up a response to comments and it prompts me to write a poem of it instead.

Charles Gramlich said...

Reminds me a bit of Bradbury!

eric1313 said...

Thanks, Charles. We don't often think of Ray Bradbury the Poet.

But when you look down a list of his authored titles, it's impossible not to notice that the guy had a pure poet riding sidecar inside his sci-fi being.