"I Can Dream"

Later this month I'm scheduled to read my poem, The Haunting, at a literary cafe, somewhere in the universe.  While publicly reading my poem is not a new thing for me, publicly reading my poem, after a twenty-plus-year hiatus, is. I have been assured that they won't bite; that they will be welcoming.  I take them at their word.

In the spirit of the resurrection - the quickening, if you will - of this dimension of my life, I shall be sharing a few poems this month.  Today's piece, written by me at 17-yo, is entitled:  I Can Dream.  Signing it with my name that's "only for the poetry" and, again, I'll try to resist the urge of my 40-something self to edit.

I Can Dream

Maybe you won't hold me tight

As often as I want you to.

Maybe you won't kiss my lips

My face, my neck

As I long for you to do.

Maybe you won't tell me that you love me

As often as every day

But, I can dream about

These things, and more,

While you are away.

I can dream that we're on

A moonlit beach

Somewhere in the dark

Or, that we're taking lovely pictures

By the river, in the park.

Or, better yet, we're holding hands

Walking toward the sunset.

And, we're laughing at a joke of yours

Walking toward the sunset.

But, these dreams are no more

Than what they are, just fantasies

And sometimes help to ease the pain

Of not tasting the realities.

They're things you can hold on to

And make them last much longer

Than realities that come and go,

Making your longing stronger.

-- Dnafcnatgada

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