dreaming.

i am thinking of you r.g.

a piano teeth smile

that played the loveliest harmonies.

on days the sun clings to branches

like a needy lover.

clutching the other’s shirt

that rips at the stitching.

 

i am dreaming of you r.g.

each time i hear a song

whistling through the trees.

i wonder if you found an answer

to the question your grandson asked you

a product of a broken home

held together by loose screws,

rusty nails,

and self-doubt.

 

are you still courting the muse?

writing poems for her each night?

do you speak of her caked cheeks

colored rose pink

and white hair?

is she still beautiful?

 

i am praying for you r.g.,

that one day, on an afternoon like this,

the wind will bring me back to you.

 

Thomas Dunn