Expired Imagination Poem by Keith Gaboury
Expired Imagination
crunching on freshly fallen leaves,
a child aimlessly searches for some form of
i m a g i n a t i o n,
yearning to coil his mind like a wire-
but he only sees tattered toys
of bouncy balls long since pierced,
soiled dolls with missing heads,
old pacifiers from the innocent past
on the dead grass that patches through the green-
surrounded by a white-picket fence,
stained with chestnut mud.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 3:04:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This seems a cynical look at imagination. I assure you that all the THINGS children have or do not have will not squelch their imagination. All they need is love and a listening ear. I'm quarreling with your premise. Your poem is very well written. Raynette Eitel