Fantasies

Do they invade our consciousness,
or are they merely mental paintings
of our unfulfilled desire?
Always, the happy endings
add cloud fluff, and drift away
a little while until we call them back.

Little comedies, they are,
for just an audience of one.
No budget, no critique,
no lines to memorize,
no little boy to stand outside,
his nose pressed to the glass
and wondering.

Just now, however, I am looking back at him
and wishing, oh so very much
that he were really there
to watch these pictures all go by
and share his insights
molded from the womb, sparing me
the dark-begotten gains
of my sophisticated greed.

Move on, young fellow.
Flirting with the dead is not for you.
Here is your brush and canvas.
Go on and paint for us reality--
paint only what you see.
~