A Dream Referred

Nighttime in the city, down an alley,

you might go looking for it – yes, your dream.

But there’s no way to find it, to redeem

some moment from your past, or to rally.

Not there – no – and maybe not in the light

where every splash and every shadow

overwhelm and underscore what you know.

The sun conspires with the moon to make night

a place of tangled webs and mystery,

a crown of half-spent glory, fading fast,

a stream of possibilities gone dry.

You start to rewrite your own history

with full knowledge: now, a bright trumpet blast,

now a falling away you can’t deny.

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Published in: on September 20, 2010 at 3:55 pm  Comments (2)  
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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. This is a wonderful piece of poetry. I love its namesake too. The last lines “You start to rewrite your own history with full knowledge: now, a bright trumpet blast, now a falling away you can’t deny.”

    • Thanks for the feedback.


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