Once a Dream. . .

The windows are askew,
even broken in some panes.
The jambs at angles
leaning drunkenly.

I know they were a dream
in some distant place,
driving a soul
to unbelievable ends,
putting hopes together
to hold the dream aloft;

a boundary only
to keep it from crashing
before the loose edges
could be tightened. . .

The dream has
been dreamed and
brought to fruition.  Finished.
The people lived
and are scattered now
to worlds formed by new dreams.
It is how it is.

Now we see
the shell of a house,
the skeleton of it all
standing as an icon
to what once was born as
an idea of a personal world

having seen its day.

Photo by
Jon Katz of Bedlam Farm