Poem in a Bowl

Have you,

can you


moonbeams on silken,


gossamer webs

of cat-spiders

against a midnight-blue

ghost of a sky

chasing the white queen,

the moon?


Can you soar

upon the back

of warm,


metallic dragons,

shimmering gold

and silver lighting

the line tree-tops

reaching up

from acres of

wood below

as to tickle

your feet?


Have you ever

had your heart broken,

rent apart

onto the rough floor

of reality

by a father,

by your mother?


Have you seen your

old friends’ dreams

playing like old


films onto the

white lace of your lover’s

wedding dress?


Can you feel the burden

of a gray,

rainy sky

pushing darkness

onto your back

in an attempt to force

the air from your lungs?


Can you see your life

echoed in nature

in a spider

or a wave upon the beach

or the rock it attacks?


Can you think,

tell yourself words

to stir you to tears,

to fill your heart with passion


as fiercely as the sun?


Can you tell me

these things,

make me understand,

place your thoughts

into the fertile ground

of a vivid imagination?


Can you honestly tell me

and tell me you have lived,

that you understand?

For my brother

September 7, 1995


2 responses to “Poem in a Bowl

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