Monday Dream

In my dream

I saw my mom’s old Landlord,

A relic of younger days.

Memory furnished a lucid picture

Of His careworn face

And fatherly demeanor,

The towering height that

Only children see.

He shone with a splendid radiance

And I wanted both

To look away

And look forever.

He was crying
With His hands outstretched,

And looking down I saw

In my hands

An orb of blue and green.

“May I have it back?” He asked,

His voice silent yet intoned

In the reflections in His eyes

And in the recesses of my mind.

I looked at it and looked at Him

And looked away

And though I felt the orb

Lose weight

And harden against my hands,

I made up my mind

And I shook my head

And then I said:

“No.”