"The haunting, hunted kind..."
~ Pilot's Dream
I dreamed I met a little boy.
A most amazing child.
He smiled at me, but didn't speak a word.
The wind was all I heard.
I followed him down a crowded alley,
filled with scowls and empty stares.
He walked among the wicked and the vile,
the endless mercantile.
Suddenly, there came
a howling, bitter rain.
The child reached out his arms
and smiled at me again.
The crowds cowered to run,
the cleansing had begun.
Then I saw thousands of sinners
falling to their knees,
searching the sky as in a trance,
wailing in song about a second chance.
When I awoke, I stepped to my window.
Crows scattered from the trees.
Their eerie call oppressed my mind,
the haunting, hunted kind.
Comments
Wow
This was eerie yet powerful. I felt like the child was trying to show you something but having you follow without speaking. Like he was showing you the ugly in the world and perhaps a touch of karma with the rain coming to cleanse them. The outstretched arms made me shiver. I could see this ghost child reaching out to be held, comforted. Perhaps a lost soul who needs some reassurance and love. This is just my take. I like the form and use of language. Another story well told. Great job.
Hello, Carrie,
I love your interpretation, as I truly did not know what it meant to me. One of those poems that just poured out. But your thoughts have helped me sort through it a bit. I believe you are spot on. Thanks so much for your insight and help!
Lx