The Sand Hill Review http://www.sandhillreview.org 2005
Hazel’s Dream
For
(February 4, 1929 —
February 3, 2004)
She wore her virgin body to the dance.
The tunes were quick. The wartime lights were pale.
In wartime, time can make so much so wrong,
she ran back home along the moon-lit lanes
and found her children safe as bedtime songs.
The dream turned giddy when the years skipped on.
She watched her youngsters strolling our West Coast.
She watched the walrus in her laundry room,
wheezing bubbles, brown eyes blinking soap.
She asked the graying moon, what have I done?
No matter, said the sudden silver moon.
Use your best will to hoist and save the beast,
and bring me word of what you’ve seen and done.
and though at night I’m otherwise beseeched,
when
your time comes, I’ll come to see you home.
Palmer Pinney