Mimicking “Forgetfulness”

Mimicking “Forgetfulness”

Every morning I wake to milk the goat

Picking every utensil, every pot,

Forgive my intrusion, the big shovel

Brushing away your comfortable bed, that you’d rather nor rid yourself of,

Hope, piece by piece, the dreams we had Eleanor

We hid and pushed to the back of our weary souls in vain,

In the restricted environs of our lives shores

I remember when we claimed and waved our dreams by

As we tiptoed through the outback forced to beg

Catching wind of all the wrong attention in our nets

I believe I can’t keep away, from the recurrent clasps

Giving off an avid sample, of games we would often play

With every storm that passes and every weather

Everyone seems and insists on gifting us a Tung

Creeping always in the shadows hoping not to get seen

Drowning in a pool of deep water with no ready diver

Screaming my lungs out trying to reach the inflated ball

Often kicking and tapping trying and fighting to stay to the shore close

One thought running endlessly through my head I could have become an uncle

I usually have nightmares drenched in unflattering fright

Mimicking the courageous and relentless god Odin’s roar

My courage flourishing from previously getting grafted

Through the night my wings will soar like a bat