Posted by: Peadar Ban | September 15, 2010

The Geometry of Dreams

They came yesterday early,
The wood masters, tall men, burly.
Brawny fellows, with bare arms
With hard boots and rough hands.
With their machines, with claws and clamps,
Loud coughing engines, roaring choppers
Shredders, chewers, saws, crushers came,
And the tall trees fell and disappeared.
Not a leaf was left against the gray sky
And dark night.

The little girl who sat in the swing;
Whose father pushed her in the swing
While she smiled and while she sang,
Slept on her mother said, and sleeping dreamed
Of tree and swing at rope’s long end,
Of arcs of air inscribed, laughter and
Father’s deep voice and father’s strong hand.

Mist covered all the homes. Rain fell
Silent.  Still lay the world all night.
Clouds filled sleeping streets at first light.
When the sun had burned it all away
When jubilant song was heard of wren and jay
The little girl awoke to tell
What she had dreamed
That from a tree a rope still fell
And from the rope a swing inscribed
An arc in the air.
And when I looked I saw it there.

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Responses

  1. Beautiful. From savage sadness to hopeful dream to joyous reality. All beautiful.

    • Thank you, Kathy

  2. the last line is perfect.

    • Thank you. Only the last line? Is that because there are no more after it?

  3. i loved ur poem, Peter. thanks.

  4. beautiful imagery.


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