Sunday, June 15, 2008

Dreams

Every one of us dreams, carries
a thought to a happy end. Even
the woman in heels, white satin bag
held to her face as she breathes
the glue through pain that strips
her legs of the ability to walk straight.
She might dream of sandy beaches
and sunshine where the waves
wipe away loss, where the sea breeze
blows in a new day of fresh
promises. She might long
for a lost lover, mourn his beauty
conjure him up through the fumes.
Dreams might be all she has, the
only other thing she can hold.

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