Andrew Furst
at the dusk of dreaming,
i must not forget
i cannot fly.
i am born, each day,
a pair of eyes
and a lumbering torso.
dreaming
in the movements of fingers, toes,
and a house bound mind.
dreaming,
i am light
and spaciousness
on the cottony ether.
but,
at the dusk of dreaming
i must not forget
that i cannot fly
i cannot drift off curbs,
over cars,
and above the trains.
i do not softly
forget
to touch
the ground.
at the dusk of dreaming.
Andrew Furst is a poet, artist, author, Buddhist teacher, photographer, musician, and a technologist. His poetry has appeared in The Chaffin Journal, Superpresent magazine, Dime Show Review, and Levee Magazine, amongst others. His art has been featured in the Emerson Review and Mud Season Review. More about Andrew at www.andrewfurst.net.