paper mache ghost poem

stay focused he thought as his fingers struck keys as he typed his search and 21st century multi media sales & marketing flashed across the screen and within a blink of an eye in comparison of the time he knew had fluttered passed him like leaves dancing in the wind in the form of paper mache teddy bears in triangle hats.


in the black predawn dreams of the past he was at home comfortable and in grand stories now distant memories but not as faded as covers of magazines kept in boxes in a basement or attic or maybe like yellow newspaper wrapped around knick-knacks saved to later help conjure up those feelings that passed of the past


now in his room with all of the books acquired over decades of seeking and with favorite original collections of folk art, luxuriant leather-ed Manhattan chair and oriental rug he had a warm hug to translate from a ghostly embrace he needed to record as a poem reflecting those fond moments not to be lost in thoughts like contents of some attics filled with cats & rocking chairs and brilliant Pacific sun light filled of coastal fresh air


the dreamer dreamt at home yet from with in a safe place of his childhood home where he encountered an unknown.


whereas the book that sat on the low to the ground coffee table that opened for enormous storage room of toys, books, crayons where he spent so many innocent Saturdays at play while his father sat nearby writing legal briefs, preparing cases and also keeping-up with papers from other cities --- this book in his dream opened-up and fluttered as if someone was racing through its pages and however there was no one there and then from out of no where as if breath was breathed into newspaper a stuffed teddy bear stood-up and made a paper mache image of itself included with a triangular top hat and darted off in a happy dance ... "John, it's OK. You're dreaming. You're dreaming it's ok. Go back to sleep now, darling."