Castle Dreams

113 Castle Dreams Jeffrey Lee My children gather mounds of yellow leaves Beneath our elm and conjure up a world Of chivalry where broomstick spears are hurled To save the kingdom's gold from thieves. I stay inside, but watch them through the door. I listen to their laughs and squeals which seem Too far away, and wonder why their dream Survives when mine died sleeping hours before. It's not imagination that I lose Among the years: my eyes still know to trace A fortress in the clouds, or see a face In dying daylight shapes that reach and fuse. But still, a shadow and a cloud reveal No more than I am willing to pretend. I've learned to lie in order to amend The sin of loving too much what is real. (Harvard University Medical School) ...