John-Ward Leighton

I WAS AWAKENED BY THIS POEM

I still have the dreams
I just don’t have the time.
I awoke this morning
with that spare slim line.
The sirens scream outside my door
for some poor soul who is no more.
The cold floor beneath my feet
my stiffening back plunked down in seat
at the monitor I do stare
and realize I’m not going anywhere.
The muse has fled
as the soldiers of the night
pick up the dead.
I awoke with the optimism of youth
then the old man
who is me
revealed the truth
and sought organize the rhyme.
I still have the dreams
I just don’t have the time.
The days rapidly slip away
as if in fright.
Is this the last one
as the shortened day
fades into night?
Because
it seems as if there is never
any light.
My muse and sun
does tease
I write this poem
in vain hope
to appease
their lust for rhyme.
I still have the dreams
I just don’t have the time.
The dreams of beardless youth
up against an old man’s truth
the hopeless reality
of slipping into
mumbling stumbling senility.
We old guys
sit discussing our latest scare
flirting with the young woman
serving there.
She smiles
and indulges us old fools
we have the desire
but not the tools.
We still have the dreams
we just don’t have the time.
Our youth has fled
our bodies just about dead
with still more stairs to climb
I still have the dreams
I just don’t have the time.
I did not realize
I was already home
when
I was awakened by this poem.