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Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Poem: The Dream

by Seattle Jon (bio)

I occassionally write poems for Charlie (my wife). Here is a recent effort. Results were more positive than this disaster.

The Dream
The other night I had a dream.
I was being interrogated. You were behind a screen.
I couldn't see you, but I could feel you there.
You felt hopeful, but a little sad, worried, scared.
My interviewer was pushing...hard.
Toward something, I couldn't tell. He wasn't showing his cards.
Some of the questions confused me.
"You already know the answers!" I screamed.
I sensed the interrogation was important, vital.
Like at stake was our eternal survival.
He pushed again, I buckled.
If this kept up, I thought, I'd crumble.
I then realized where the questions were heading.
I started crying, pleading, begging.
"You know how I feel, let me be with her,
to love her, hug her, touch her and kiss her."
The man disappeared, so did the screen.
It was just you, and me, and fields of green.

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