the sound of an old dream dying
a sighing, distant muffled drop
to the bottom of a deep, deep well?
Well. With great politeness bred
of long association, it won’t
let you near its helpless rage;
its shadow song is always
alone, padding softly
down long twisting halls
away from the stone-closed door
And how. This is great.
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Good morning. 🙂 And thank you for that bit of sunshine.
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What a beautiful and sad image, perfectly done. Love how you used “well.” ❤
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Thanks very much. That repetition was a last-minute change. 🙂
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There’s an almost gothic, drugged feel to this, Jennifer.
For the avoidance of doubt, that is A Good Thing.
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Oh, I like that take on it. Thanks so much for the visit!
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I agree!
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That last line sent shivers up the old spine. This poem is so spot on—I just hope it isn’t premonitory.
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Well, old dreams probably die mostly from neglect. So I think you don’t need to worry. 🙂
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Phew! I have enough trouble coping with my own new dreams.
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Reblogged this on Jane Dougherty Writes and commented:
I wasn’t going to reblog this one, not wanting to tempt fate, but it’s too good not to.
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Ooo. This hits close to home — The notion of dreams being too polite to demand us to act.
Nicely put together, and point taken!
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After I wrote this, I read an article (via Quiet Revolution I think) about being afraid of success. Got me thinking (more).
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I also love your use of “well”! I’ve read and re-read this, unable to comment due to poor bandwidth but that has allowed me to keep ruminating. There is such a melancholy for me when I read this – the angst of the loss of dreams, of hopes and plans we’ve let go because of the other things in life that get in the way. Maybe it’s ok that this happens, maybe not, maybe it’s just the way it is.
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I think there’s a real grieving process. To make a very long story short, I was thinking of a writer friend and her struggles with a certain dream, and of my own (ultimately freeing) letting go of another certain dream. How we convince ourselves there is one particular road to happiness, and what the consequences of that belief can be.
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How true – and familiar. You really capture that struggle here – I’m glad you explained a bit about the inspiration.
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