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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