I bulldozed rows
of cotton dunes,
squeezed others into
fault-line footprints.
My dreams wallowed ruts
on journeys
longitude to longitude,
and back again, and
vaporized like ghosts
every time
the dam threatened to break.
Digitized voices broke the silence.
I showered,
shaved, then
made the bed.
(all rights reserved Pat Paulk 2006)
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12 comments:
Love the ending.:)
Very good, Pat!
I am so glad to have another poet to get to know.
Hello Pat,
Looks like you are in the same gang with Nick eh?
Thanks for droppping by and well, I must say your works are awesome as well. *speechless*
You hit it. What an end. My dream. I never do it.
my dreams are dead --
restless ghosts
disturb my night visions
Now YOU are the true poet.
a.
Carol the pleasure's all mine. Thanks for commenting!
Thanks Aristocrat!Enjoyed visiting your blog!
Eric, there are worse things that could be dead, I guess.
Always appreciate your comments borut!
Thanks Andrea! A very nice compliment! I enjoyed reading your poetry!
Oh, who did I leave out... Thank you AA!
What a turn at the end - love it!
I really enjoy your dream/waking conversations. Might be a good theme for a book.
Very interesting.
Thanks Russell, Polona, and Mandy!
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