In That One Dream
Even pigeons could read my mind
as I walked without destination along
the sidewalk of the big city; the hot dog
vendor looked like Jack Nicholson.
The mystical canyon of skyscrapers
loomed, and Plato passed out copies
of his writings, anxious to share
his life’s work with anyone interested.
No one in their right mind wants what you’re selling,
someone said as he passed, so convinced
of man’s fallibility that nearby faith healers
and positive thinkers grew silent and anxious.
And the dark clouds hung full and heavy,
threatening to rain for the next 40 days.
A cleansing would do us all good, someone
else said as we formed a line behind Noah’s animals.
(Image provided by Christopher J Ananias)
Saragun Springs 
Bruce
Such a wonderful little snippet of life. I can see Jack selling red hots, and the expressions on the Pigeon’s faces (which is their only expression yet they are the only species capable of producing it).
Leila
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I liked the dream quality of the poem. A prophet spreads their wisdom, but no one wants to hear it. A symptom of society that is as old as the Bible and older. Great images. It really engages the reader.
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CJA
Owls are symbols of ancient prophecy so your brilliant image of this particular owl is very fitting for this particular poem. Thanks for creating it and sharing it with the world, in a “this is my letter to the world” Emily Dickinson kinda way.
Dale
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Bruce
Mind-reading pigeons, Jack Nicholson selling hot dogs, Plato passing out his self-published writings, Noah and his ark waiting in the wings and all of it happening in a cityscape that seems like a mystical version of NYC all add up to a gentle and intriguing poem that says more the more time the reader gives to it. I also really like the nature of the dream in this poem, probably a night dream, maybe a daydream, possibly another kind of dream, the fact that this and so much else is left open-ended while also having the concrete details nailed to the wall as in a painting, and the wonderful, unassuming rhythms in this piece as well – all add up to a poem we (Leila and me) are proud to unveil for the discerning readers of the Saragun Springs.
I’ve spent much time in the great state of Michigan, like the time I was born and raised there in Dearborn (for a little while in the late ’60s/early ’70s). Also spent time in Caro and Atlanta (a lot of time in both of these), Grand Rapids, and the Keweenaw Peninsula of the U.P. and various other locations around the state, like Traverse City and Gaylord.
Thanks for letting us publish this piece; we’re ready to look at more of your work whenever it’s ready!
Dale
PS
I also like how the speakers within this poem (not the speaker of the poem) don’t have quotation marks around their dialogue.
PPS
Also like how it raises the question of who, and who is not, in their right mind in this world.
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