Milkweed Trail
by Candace Armstrong

Do I have time for one more dream?
The early morning clock is pushed aside
I'm planting tiger lilies near the stream
and dawn paints waves upon my shuttered eyes.
Our sleeping dog has not yet come around.
Sweet Monarch butterflies can play and feed
in sunny milkweed fields without a sound.
That kind of free is what I need
because when happy dreams are put away
the somber beating drums of time begin
to say I have so much to do today.
But first I seek to know some space within
to roam the spacious meadows of my mind
and find again belief in humankind.



 

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