367. her dream.

a tear rolls down my cheek

as I listen to Nyman

transported back to way back when…


nearly finished my walk through the empty deer park

the avenues of lofty oaks, the river

the turkey waiting

and a scattering of snowflakes slowly fall

from a truly leaden sky.


I lie at the bottom of the pool


invisible to all

the water cold, so cold

as life goes on out there

above the waterline


and I wait

treading water in my mind

waiting for her

I’m a warrior, true, waiting

and I know what I’m waiting for


but I never was blessed

with patience

but still I wait

the years drift by

as winter leaves

blown away…


and now I sit with Nyman and wonder

and wonder

how did I ever get this lucky –


she’s somewhere nearby

and thinks I’m God

so who am I to spoil her dream ?