vacation poem :: steve langan

At home I was mama’s “little dreamer.”
At work the boss whispered get busy.
I tried, with little success, to forget it all.

The method is common: out the window
you imagine a forest (too dense),
so you imagine an ocean, it’s azure.

But oceans are especially unruly.
Oceans are unforgiving.
A rogue wave…

and now the town is drowning.
For a minute it’s beautiful,
the chairs and all the tables.

But then the realization
everyone is drowning.
Wake up, be good, smile.

Life will never be as good
as it is right now.