Morgan Michaels

Centenary - Poem by Morgan Michaels

If, in your life's dark night,
if, in your life's very center
racing from berth to berth,
asleep in your cot in the steerage
you hear waltzes tossed
into your dreams like banners from above
and feeling a little shudder
imagine you hear groans
of metal rent asunder
pay it no mind.

It is nothing, nothing.
Your stomach grumbling, that's all.
It is indigestion.
Return to sleep. Turn over in your bed.
Ignore it-draw the covers tightly
over your head. In the cold sky of night
the lanterns of the stars burn brightly
and though there's far to go
tomorrow's a new day, guaranteed
to dawn rosy.

And if your dreams begin to list,
having come this far, don't be a bit
upset or complain more than once-
that is the way of fugitive dreams.
And if they tilt some more
just be glad they haven't tilted further.
But heeling to a reckless pitch
salvage what's left or abandon them outright-
cry yourself awake
leap to an idle boat and haul away.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 15, 2012

Poem Edited: Sunday, April 15, 2012

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