Illustration by Sarah Hasty Williams
The Old Dreamer
No longer dreams of glass-winged dragonflies
That hawked mosquitos from the summer stream
When he was ten and walked in April’s sun,
No longer dreams the chill of autumn wind
That rustled through November’s dry corn stalks,
The frantic beat of wings, the shotgun’s jolt
When he was seventeen and stalked the fields
To strike the pheasants from a cobalt sky.
Grown anxious now, he dreams of dingy streets,
Walks once again among the pale-faced men
Who fired the roaring furnaces at night
And slept the sun away, now wanders through
The rusted bones of mills to find the bar
And find his father’s ghost still dealing cards,
Still pocketing the change the boy would glean
From the tattered chair where the old man slept.
"The Old Dreamer" is from the collection Shadows by Gene Kimmet (Canopic 2019)