the last dream

The Last Dream

He’s old
with a
white beard
& ponytail
& in
winter he
wears a
motorcycle
jacket as
a windbreaker.

 

People at
check-out stands
kept saying
things like
it’s a
little cold
to be
riding
motorcycle
isn’t it &
watch for
black ice &
one woman
gave him her
phone number
& said
call me if
you go on
the road &
want company.

 

That night he
went to
the garage
with a
flashlight &
pulled the
tarp off
his 45
flathead Harley
with the
tank shift &
suicide clutch
that he hadn’t
ridden in
fifty years.

 

He ran
his hand
over the
tank &
then replaced
the tarp
& left
the garage.

 

Before he
was halfway
back to
the house,
his last
dream vanished.

1 Comment

Filed under poems & short jabs

One Response to the last dream

  1. Monsieur K.

    …damn good one Johannes!

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