Sunday, December 27, 2009

Light Upon Our Shoes

Lost in San Francisco, I met a preacher who couldn’t speak, a tall man concerned with giants, a homeless man who wanted what I didn’t have, a trio of young thugs who threatened to beat me but didn’t follow through, a little boy searching for his mom — I followed him down a side street and saw him safely home, then crossed beneath a dripping stairwell where a young man was playing a marble game and betting against himself ... reaching in my pocket I found what I thought might be a phone, part TV remote, part bright-red plastic toy, and was about to call my son when I came to a flight of metal stairs leading down, turned at the landing, took a narrow ladder the rest of the way, and there I met another boy who said “Don’t renounce me” three times as if I already had, and I fished in my pocket and found a sodden book of matches, only one of which seemed sound, and I tried to strike it to shed some light upon our shoes, to prove to him that mine were not mine, and his were his.

Added yesterday to the Annandale Dream Gazette. My thanks, as always, to Lynn Behrendt.

Recently Linked: My thanks to Grandma Scott for signing on as a follower of Recently Banned Literature. You can visit her website, The Gifts of Dawn, here.


Elisabeth said...

What a dream, William. Is it about identity? 'to shed some light upon our shoes, to prove to him that mine were not mine and his were his.'

It's the 'not' in here that intrigues me.

William Michaelian said...

Me, too. Well, the whole sequence does, really. I don’t know.

Akeith Walters said...

Very nice, Mr. M., as always.

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Gray. I hope you’re well, and that things are going great on your end.

vazambam said...


Just goes to show
some tread lightly

while others go
in heavy darkness

and where the two meet
only their dreams know.

William Michaelian said...

Beautiful — and proof once again that there is no light as revealing as the light of a poem.