At Dawn, I Am I

In a dream, I died.

 

Sitting in quiet

repose, I felt a wash

of joy release me,

absolve every essence,

erase me and send

me away.

 

One cool morning,

a breeze swept me

under a grass rug,

acquiescing to the

worms and bugs,

I rejoined.

 

In a dream, I lied.

 

I attended the party,

smiling as required,

though I felt alone,

a crowded room

became a melting

pot.

 

I thought of you

walking, a human

like us, shuffling

among the towering

trees, reaching,

grasping.

 

In a dream, I cried.

 

Your maverick ways,

cobbling together a

kite, a mounting

suspicion, freezing

cold and shuttered;

banal.

 

In a prescient poem

you angered everyone,

and for a lost second

your words recovered

and recanted; shamefully

dour.

 

In a dream, I glide.

 

Upon the water deep,

a fish nibbles my feet,

and I am left with your

ghost, a tattered dress,

a fable of my youth;

ignominy.

 

♫ Taste the moment,

it’s possibly the last,

pushing your heart

and numbing your past,

timbre and movement,

a loss to compare,

in the lights ever passing,

I won’t be there. ♫

 

In a dream, I am I.

 

For those interested, here’s a link to my latest book on Amazon, a chapbook full of “love” poems.

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~ by Shawn M. Young on July 13, 2016.

3 Responses to “At Dawn, I Am I”

  1. Excellent piece!

  2. Beautiful, lovely, reads like music.

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