A Summer's Dream Poem by James McLain

I'd rather wait
than tell the coming dream
that few could tell or else
they would thus tell.
Of super highways in the mind
that wind upon them selves.
Everybody has a place
none go without the sight
and no one's child
is left including will.
If death appeared
none would appeal approached.
Where intersections
placed on in the world
each racing yacht prevailed.
To kiss the lips of each fair girl I saw.
And save them
what I owe and you can have.
The only death I know that rest
and you the will to be.
I see them almost daily news
from could not do to then thus when I found.