“There’s always a place for an old horse
Though it can take no more to the long road.”
– Tu Fu, 768
Gunfights and gone lovers
crowd into dreams
wanting their stories retold,
yearning to be remembered.
I sort each night
through their purgatory
adrift except a dream,
to give them taste
of life among the living.
In the morning
I leave the worn trail
knowing one day
I’ll look back
on those yet alive
but now here you are
returning my eyes
to the light of day.
The fruit of our tree
upon slender branches
with a river of green
flowing out from every finger
to what wanders in the night.
Graceful, strong, eloquent. Just marvelous. Thank you, Don!
Well, hell, another fine poem you’ve gotten us into.
Do you get the Walt Whitman Tuesday postings? They’re cool.
So are you.
Amazing, Don! You’ve just retold what I experienced this week when a gone lover resurfaced in my awareness, and I searched my memory file, still not understanding why we parted; but sent loving thoughts her way. Then, came her message in my inbox, reaching for my hand in her dark moment. I turned my Light in her direction and offered a helping hand across the swollen stream. My response to What Wanders…in my world.
Wow! Poignant, brilliant, full of rich feeling……bravo!
Lovely and sweet. Thank you, Don.
For once the somewhat uneven grammar/punctuation works in your favor because of the nature of the poem to dive deep and surface. This is one of my favorites of yours.
Thank you Don. I’ve been musing recently on the role of dreams and sleep in the process of creation … wondering on how little consideration I have given on circa 30% of my life. Thank you for focusing the light of your thought on it.
So beautiful.
yes, very nice, reading a lot about dreams & it all fits unconsciously well!