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Postcards

I’ve been sleeping for a long time Drifting in and out of “reality” They say the dreams of men are only passengers That has but one final destination I can’t get off this train I never bought a ticket It was always here In the back of my mind In front of me Carrying me towards destiny I look out the window The glass reflects only me There is no scenic tour I only know that I feel bad Like I got the blues in green Sad but forgotten I ride this train To the end of the tracks Where the blues end And the dying begins Till then There are only postcards My friend

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Cherl Dunn

Date: 12/29/2013 3:27:00 PM

Mental postcards great visual in this write nicely done i hope some day to travel also but not yet at least for a few more years. cool write again here my friend. cheri

Connie Marcum Wong

Date: 12/28/2013 7:01:00 PM

Wow Stephen, the depth of this poem seeps into the bone! To fully understand, maybe you have to have been there? Your poem truly spoke me in a beautiful melancholy way. Bravo my friend!

Stephen Kilmer
Date: 12/29/2013 5:02:00 AM

Connie, thanks for checking out my work. I appreciate the kind words. To answer your question: I have always been there. ~Kilmer

Laura Breidenthal

Date: 12/28/2013 1:00:00 PM

Lovely verse. It's nice to come back and read some of your work again. Hope all's well. Always, Laura

Stephen Kilmer
Date: 12/28/2013 6:08:00 PM

Thanks Laura, I am looking forward to reading the rest of "Calm". All is well for now. thanks for caring. ~Kilmer

Kathryn Collins

Date: 12/28/2013 9:03:00 AM

Hi Kilmer - I got the blues in green. I would love to make a poem around that. Keep em coming. love, Kathy May your spirits be up in 2014 (next few days too)