original poems by john allen

Dream Catcher

Where do dreams go when they die?
Do they vanish like a puff of smoke?
Or, do they flutter off to some unknown
plane where they pile up in windrows
to be collected and pinned to a board,
like the faded trophies of a lepidopterist,
to be displayed for the amusement of the gods?


© John Allen December, 2009

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