a quick sketch



I met an old friend last night,

it was something like a reunion.

Some others were there, I couldn't

quite place them, but we were

having fun, talking and eating,

lots of laughing—and planning.

My friend was moving, and he 

wanted to wash his pickup 

before the move. I said, "Walker,

why before the move?" And

he said, "Oh man! I'm going to 

be driving into that white desert,

and it's going to be beautiful

and I want everything to be perfect."

Just like Walker to enthuse

over something the rest of us

wouldn't even notice. I went 

off to the kitchen for more food,

and I thought, coming back 

into the room—I'm going to 

come back here after I finish

the semester and get a job.

And then I woke and told 

Martha about my dream, that

I saw Walker again, and it was

a good dream, and I'm only

telling the parts I can remember,

and even so I'm getting it wrong.

The point is—I saw Walker, and

he was himself. He was my best

friend, he died at forty-nine,

which means I haven't seen him

in seventeen years. He was my

Japhy Ryder, a saint and a

wild man, and I wonder if the

white desert was a metaphor.







Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 30 times
Written on 2020-03-25 at 14:32

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Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Such lovely poem well done Jim. I love it. And yes we can dream our love once who are in heaven. Some time they come to us to tell us something important about them or us. I often talk in my dreams with my daughter.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I believe so. There's something reassuring about seeing those who are long gone in dreams.