Of shining houses,
Shape-changing rooms,
Dauntless heroes, daring deeds.
I dream
Of toiling miles
Down tedious streets
Through dreary places.
And everywhere
You, misty you,
Also are contained
In my dreams.
You’ve been gone
For years;
Yet your face remains,
Lingering in my brain.
I’ll never touch again
The object of my dreaming,
But thanks to misty you
The fact no longer pains.
©2019 John I. Blair, 6/15/2019
No comments:
Post a Comment