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Saturday, January 28, 2023

Armadillo Dreams

 


I don't know. It's absurd. I just don't know
what to think anymore. Am as confused
as an armadillo in a tobacco store, dubious,
but willing to wait and see if the situation
might actually be genius.

There's a sweet, sad song on the jukebox,
that I used to sing when I thought
one day I'd be a superstar. But heavy boots
trampled all over my dreams, so now I
listen for the nightbird's call, for that
lonely train whistle at two a.m.
I don't really dream at all any more.


for Shay's Word List. I used ten of the words, and this just wrote itself. Cool list, Shay.

8 comments:

  1. I like this a lot. It has a natural flow and honesty to it, but we all dream - some of us whilst awake.

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  2. Replies
    1. I agree. At my age just being is enough. A miracle, in fact. LOL.

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  3. Your poem has a wistful feel to it and I can relate. Mine went a forlorn direction. I agree with Shay. (Just being is enough.) You always write beautifully from the heart my friend!

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  4. Sherry, you always move me with your writes! You really capture the longing and the feeling that dreams never quite go away but live on in the heart. Love this line:

    "so now I
    listen for the nightbird's call, for that
    lonely train whistle at two a.m."

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  5. Those words really worked so wonderfully into your poem. Everyone is a 'superstar' in their own way! Smiles.

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  6. Shine on you are a superstar in the story of your life!

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  7. Most of us have dream that were stomped on and looking back they don't bother me anymore... if we are lucky, we learn to treasure the disappointments along with the joys...

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