dreamed a poem
During my after dinner nap.
Of course I can’t remember
A single line of it now.
So in the absence of content,
I’ll write about context and structure,
Hoping the dreamed words
Will re-emerge in my consciousness.
Back in ’85, about this time of the year,
I packed the Jetta chocked full
With my meager belongings,
A few books, a futon and sleeping bag,
crockpot and popcorn popper,
my stereo and album collection,
And freshly pressed uniforms,
And headed south to Tallahassee
Without a GPS. And made it there.
Checked into a ratty hotel,
Bought the Tallahassee Democrat,
Found an apartment in the classifieds,
And moved in the next day.
Things were simpler back then.
as many classes as I could
And finished in four semesters.
My boy said, “Why you rushing?
All these honeys – this place is heaven.”
But I had bigger fish to fry, of course.
all a blur now, mixed up memories.
I left Tallahassee with a new love
(and I really shouldn’t have).
I had a degree and a commission
And I was feeling pretty grown up
And sure of myself. That lasted barely
Four years, the things I lost in Katrina –
A metaphor for any destructive storm.
But now Katrina is up for consideration.
She loves being the subject and object
Of feisty conversation, mixed up memories,
Things lost in a storm.