an imagined woman has an imaginary conversation
for a friend from the old school
i want to thank you for the conversation
i was a little sad thinking about friends
and the great cycle
of alpha and omega
you were one of my
i still remember
getting paddled in kindergarten
you and me and Cassidy
there are other memories too
and lately I've been wondering
vision is adjusted by what we learn
and as i look back
things weren't what they seemed
and here we are
products of the old school
that sits empty now
and i suppose it is natural
to have regrets
products of learning
there are always things we might have done
but there are days to be content
secure in the knowledge
that we have built a foundation
one that will outlast us
a hundred years
the ones that learned
to scrawl in that old school
have many constructive days before us
there are lives
we haven't touched yet
there are books
still to read
this didn't turn out like i thought it would
My dad wanders in and out of my dreams.
The conversations are better than I ever remember.
He says stuff to me now.
Apparently being dead does bring wisdom.
We were watching a flood, him and me.
It must have been astral travel cause I don't know
how I could have got there.
Well, anyway, we were watching the water storm through the yard and the street and the middle of the house.
And I could feel my insides aching to mourn for all the things that I watched float away.
And said "let it go, it's just stuff."
And I ducked my head and wiped away the tears and wondered again
how he got so smart.
the Old one said
that the weather would become dangerous
that the lightning was searching in his dream
and I have watched and waited
and held my breath
when the storm came too near
and I breathed a sigh of relief
when July was over
because the dream must have been wrong
but this morning
red skies broadcast their warning
and lightning played
while Anna waited for the school bus
and one arrogant flash
happened so close
I was blinded for a moment
I closed my eyes
and white fireworks
the storm followed me to work
and then wandered off
it may be
that the lightning
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Charlotte Perkins Gilman Poems
Fairy Tale Poems
John Keats Poems
Math, Science & Technology Poems
Ship, Sail & Boat Poems
William Blake Poems
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