-Eleanor Roosevelt
who needs dreams when this morning unwraps itself
in thunder, birds singing more softly, racing for cover
cats sleeping in, with the darkened sky---everything
is hushed, hushed, hushed, enclosed inside
a huge safe crystal dome of loveliness
my future rings brightly, colored in taffeta ribbons
making plain muslin curtains regal--waving in the breezes
of a still dark and warm morning, rumbling as she pleases
reds are worn at dusk on beach, for children to be seen
and heard shrieking with a pleasure only felt
in summer's late day sun, when lemons make tart
alongside iced tea's sweetness; when running almost naked
allows us to feel the cooling air, and hear more clearly
the receding tide, pulling pebbles from the beach
and gently scooping sand, as we used to do
flinging the new found pebbles further out in dark waters of mystery
wondering if pen pals in china will get to grasp these stones, to see
how we live on an island surrounded by water, within a hop skip and a jump
into manhattan sky scrapers; sky is wishing to fly
away from all the scraping-- buildings are not meant
to be higher than the tallest giant
sky is meant to feel her oats, and dance- as she swirls
away from what is familiar to her sunlit eyes, while
plunging into unknown waters, discovering local pies
of boysenberries and apricot, freshly baked
off the coast of clinking chinook dreams-with what is known
to be, just perfectly sweet--- living within her means
Kate Lamberg
7.26.12
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