Eric Sampson: Little Pools (poem)

Southern Legitimacy Statement: I am a native Virginian who has lived in Boston and Philadelphia. I am back in Virginia and enjoy connecting with my southern roots. I write poetry, short fiction, and I act, and paint.

Little Pools

In your deep moonlight
Where the sun and the little stars shine fluidly,
Achingly, in little pools of burnt out dreams,
In wonders of before,
Where your old daddy once danced, where you imagined a giant,
A man of alabaster goodness and calm kingliness,
Made sure you would stay protected, loved, and nestled for eternity.
That dream was lost for a time, you were thrown into a cold and desperate
Place, and the gods wept, even, and your faith was tarnished,
And gray streets of concrete and black tar filled your field of vision.
Sorry now,
Sorry is a futile word,
A despairing word and disconsolate.
But – those deep moonlit dreams still dance behind those eyes.