Monday, November 19, 2007

Losing Imagination

In the cool dark of morning
We’d sit on the floor
Wishing ourselves to a distant place
Watching the shadows as they moved.

I was only five but I recall
A rainbow on the floor that shaped the silhouette
Of a trader, carrying goods on a wagon
In a far off land

How I wished we were there

But we were there
For those three minutes the sun allowed
The illusion
To penetrate my senses

When dreams die upon entering
I know I’m growing older
Slower
Less imaginative

And tired

Strained for hope
I walk amidst the trees
Feel the ground beneath me
And taste the air around me

I am free

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