what I told the small boy in my dream
was really nothing.
I was silent,
too caught up in the following to recognize him,
though I’d seen photos.
Mom took them,
the boy in a tailored suit,
on his trike or on the backyard swing,
the boy as master of the puppet show,
or sitting on Dad’s lap
(The Child’s World, Volume One, open to read),
proud creator of the model Alamo,
frowning into the sun with the Easter basket,
next to his Nonno who holds a drink, sporting a shiner
from a diabetic fall, the boy somber
looking straight ahead.
Only when waking did I know him,
this guide to secret places. Now that he’s gone
with the fog of morning as I stepped over the boundary
into wakefulness,
do I know what I would say.
6 thoughts on "what I told the small boy in my dream"
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Wonderful introspective poem!
I love how you have extended yesterday’s poem and managed to add meaning and mystery. Beautiful!
I’m working on something here, perhaps will extend this line of writing into sections, if the prompting of each poem continues,,,
This poem is beautiful, thoughtful and full of precious details.
I love how these two poems speak to each other! Brilliant!
I find it hard to speak in dreams too. Vivid picture painted here!