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Dream

Free Verse

By Aspen Marie Published about a year ago Updated about a year ago 1 min read
Runner-Up in This Is How I Remember It Challenge
Photo: mine

Around my birthday

Thirteen years ago

A tiny bundle of cells

Tangled in the wrong spot

Made a graceless exit

That packed a punch

Normal, natural, necessary

Still, I grieved

For a whole trot

Around the sun

Please do not

Feel sad or sorry

It is good to say

These things out loud

It is pretty much guaranteed

You have had scrapes

That bled more

But perhaps

Your heart did not break

With that nasty cut

As much as mine

Did that day

Twelve years later

My son, sprinting

Into the years

Of robust youth

Looking every bit

Like his father

Though there were/are

Some soft indications

My genes are

Somewhere in the mix

Left behind smallness

Soul sighed

At the inevitable transformation

Bringing into question

Practical reproductive decisions

(Logic and reason prevailed)

One night, Morpheus

Conjured a little sprite

Running through

Twilight fields

Eyes green

Dark spiral halo

Defying gravity

And hairbrushes

She laughed and dashed

I spoke her name

Calling out

Forest

Waking was a nightmare

For she was gone

Forever after that

My dream child lost

Stolen by faeries

To spend eternity

In Titania’s embrace

Even now, I ache for her

Strange how a vision

Became more real

Than that pin-sized

Handful of misshapen tissue

Today my son grows tall

More attitude seeps in

Calls me “bro”

On occasion

Which I DETEST

Ready for deodorant

(Really, really ready)

He is solid flesh

Vibrant tree reaching skyward

Rooted deep in my love

Perhaps some dreams

May be made whole

By hearts

Not yet broken

But mine has been broken

And broken

Yet here I am

Content with life

In all its messiness

Pain, odour, “bro”

I would not trade this existence

For a thousand daughters

Though sometimes

I do wish

That microscopic conglomerate

Had taken root

Sprouted into a sassy teen

Who would roll her eyes

Say rude shit

To get under my skin

Live a real life

Really loved

By her mother

Who dreamt her name

Long after she was

Never born

Free Verse

About the Creator

Aspen Marie

In love with life and all of its foibles.

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    Written by Aspen Marie