top of page

The Dream

I wanted to write my sorrows down,

but then the fourth

of four

ballpoint pens

I placed on the shelf beside my bed

just died.

Now I’ll just wait

for another day

to try again.

I had this dream,

but it was just a feeble gust

of wind lost out at sea.

Once long ago, it passed me by

but by then my sails had broken.

MORE POEMS

bottom of page