Poem #64 of 365

"We must unprepare for the land"
were the last words of my final
dream this chilly morning

thanks to the ill-timed phoning
by an uptight chick with a dayplanner voice

nonetheless i lapsed back into my
reverie, remembering my dream,
once the phone was cradled and quiet.

i am seeing a boy, that is, when i squint
to recall, and he has a gingerbread
face and a thrilled ebullient laugh,

so what was i to learn from this lad?

to unprepare for the land, i supposed
meant you can't be composed when you
surrender to the breeze of an outside
excursion these days.

we must undo what we've learned,
and take off the watch, and forsake
all high-tech dependence.

my friend was just there, in forest
in tent, and perhaps that is why i
am thinking of land.

are you unprepared? are you ready
to let go the net, and leave off the
phone, and relinquish your
refrigerator for a life face to
face with the sun?


copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez