But now its fully understood
Waking up is what happens when you die
Until then the dream goes on
Sometimes a nightmare
Sometimes absurd
Always somehow unreal
But still as real as it gets

As a boy
I never concerned myself with existential philosophy
Or patriotic cynicism
I was a farmer's son
Far too busy for that

I made my fortune the way my father did
Which isn't surprising
It was part of our dream
That hard work and sweat
Would be the means by which we paid for leisure
At the end of our years.

I ploughed and killed the odd rabbit
My father hated guns
Disliked death in any of its many forms

There was no reading or writing
Though mother was keen I should learn
Eventually I would--
But only when it seemed a farmer couldn't farm without it
And when his back wasn't supposed to be as strong
As the backs he employed

I remember the churning of butter and the creak of the windmill
I remember the kitten crsuehd by the table my mother was re-finishing
I remember being happy
I remember being sadder than I would ever be again
I remember life before love and
I remember life before the death of anything but bugs
And pets interred by Father behind the house
I remember me playing minister to a congregation of field mice
Stoic cats and poorly made toys.

Time translated those simple dreams into the dreams of an adult

More complicated and strenous to maintain
The games of our youth no played at in deadly earnest

My dreams took me far from the playgrounds of my youth
A second childhood and its inevitable fancies
Dragged me through the mountains of the west
To lie frozen on the hard earth
My once feverish heart that once fed my veins
Will now feed another
Break under his teeth
Put vigor in his veins
"George Donner's Dying Thoughts" IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE DOWNLOADED, TRANSMITTED, PRINTED OR PERFORMED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR

"George Donner's Dying Thoughts" debuted June 1, 2001.

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