For Thomas

by Willow Rose

Thomas wanted to travel: he thought
he’d hitch a ride on some shell pink clouds,
float through melted emerald skies
bright as an anemone;
Thomas dreamed this as a child,
and borrowed wings from Icarus
to speed him on his way.

Thomas wanted to fly: he thought
he would flow through silvered moonbeams;
sip from starshine straws
on nighttime wonder in the sky,
until the pearly dawn turned golden
Thomas dreamed this as a man
but waxen wings curtailed his flight.

Crash diving into a greasy garage,
Thomas works twelve hours a day.
Traveling through metal bowels on his back,
a gnome-like figure with oil stained hands;
flashing his toothless grin.
plying his wrench with skill.
Thomas burns his hands on my engine,
then charges me half of what I owe
and watches me speed away in my car
dreaming his dreams as I go.

©Willow Rose 2011

12 thoughts on “For Thomas by Willow Rose

    • Adriene, I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your article,”Is Poetry Fiction or Non-Fiction?” As I read your thoughts on the Confessional Poets; Lowell; Plath; Sexton; I felt as if I were bumping into old friends and the last two were really exciting since I had never heard of them and am looking forward to reading their works. I am so happy someone so familiar with the great poets enjoys my poetry; it is an incredible honor to be respected by another writer and a well-read lover of poetry. I wanted to sign up on your email and hope I can spend some time reading your work as you have read mine; sincere feedback is so very important! Looking forward to more of your comments and enjoying your creative endeavors, Adriene. Love and Light, Willow

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