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and then

and then there is the undone dream the dream you woke up in the middle of

the death of one who was not supposed to or whom you will never be ready to let go

the action you would have taken then if only you knew what you know now

all unborn within you

all as much a part of you

as the dreams you dreamed to the end and then could finally forget

the deaths of those who died and then came to you in light or in darkness

the deaths of those who then flew through you or who then appeared in a vision and then quietly faded into the nothingness you could not see

or the actions you still remember sharply with shame or with pride

all undone or done inside you

all your restless spirit and your questing mind all your muscle’s pull and your certain skill

all your body and your soul

from Steve — poems from a friend — Bill Eberle

Thomaston Maine     4:20 a.m. April 24

© 2019, Bill Eberle