Dream River Road Poem by Doug Stewart

The wanderers sing to an off key
Melody that is never quite brought to
Rhyme.
And the conductors rap their scarred
Batons, bored musicians come to loose
Attention.
Throats clear, noses sniff and snort, sheets
Of music riffle in sweaty palms, and sudden
Silence..
A single violin, strung with heart gut, echoes
Painfully throughout the hall, a tenor starts the
Aria.

And If I sing in the dark,
When no one else is
Listening,
And if I dream in the
Daytime, when no one else
Heeds.
But I dance in plain sight, just because
I can,
Am I less free than those who
Publicly display their art, or simply
Mad?
Hubris runs rampant in land overgrown with
Yellow tulips, white chrysanthemums, and death
Poppies.