This is a poem I wrote back in August of 2010. What else can I say? Yesterday was that kind of Sunday.
Sorry. I've been hunting dragons again
in that far-away land of dreams lost
with the wasted days of youth, buried
beneath endless stacks of aluminum
beer cans, soda cans, a metal mountain
shadowed behind the eternal fire of
our town's bankrupt tire recycler.
Do you remember it too?
Endless oak forests filled with fair folk floating on
butterfly wings, playing tiny flutes and drums.
Their heavenly music just out of sight, their
tinkling laughter at foolish mortals
like you and me.
Or was it another dream?
You know, the one with the ivory castle
shining in the midday sun, velvet
tapestries of unicorns flirting with maidens
while trolls watch from the shadows and
monkeys tap out melodies on harpsichords.
Their garden symphony led by harps and tambourines
held by squirrels, or maybe chipmunks.
We did have a garden, didn't we?
tended by gnomes, brownies
and other earthbound wee folk
with a taste for fresh milk, honey
and a love of clean wholesome dirt.
Sorry. I've been hunting dragons again.
Maybe next time you'll come with me?