I tell them my dream.
They tell me,
with those eyes and lips
of skepticism,
“You have a long way to go.”
Better to be on the path
than be on the side of the road–
a fearful bystander
watching the cars come and
go, watching the mountains
rise and the valleys deepen,
with no fire to push their
dreams farther than
where they are, buried
inside of them–
being no better
than roadkill, because
at least the turtles and
the deer and the snakes
were on the way,
hope nearly bursting
out of their small hearts.
They died, but at least
they died a dreamer. And
you– will you be able
to say you even leapt?
p.s. this is being posted on the 6th because i forgot to hit publish!!