WINDBLOWN DREAMS

I remember blissful days
and luxuries of youth
the first time I could drive alone
a mustang on my hood

the freedom of that outstretched arm
and fingers of my hand
weaving up and down the wave
of windblown dreams and plans

I drove along a hillside road
with trees on either side
standing tall
their branches raised
in bare limb blackened light

A thought flashed by my carefree mind
how hopeful buds would bring
the beauty patience has designed
as March turns into spring

I was so fearless early on
with family and career
but now the slow of weathered legs
are mine in yearly years

So back to this as if before
with only children’s needs
no hope of driving my old car
in wait of heaven’s dreams

A poem by Greg Nelson
© 2020 by Poppie’s Hallel (BMI. Admin. by Amplified Administration)

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