by James Bohen

The explosions flicker,
then the amber-lit city winks out . . .
and is gone.
We are flying from the long night;
we are flying near dawn.

A white ghost mists alive,
attacks with a rip a fabric of clouds—
it wants to slice up their canvas
to wrap around some bones . . .
but then the ghost, too, is gone.

Blue shades begin to arc above a dumb white
grin, fingers of frozen lava
separate snow into islands and deltas.
Rose and orange hover above a carpet cloud.

The clock decides to move
and we are flying near dawn.

When the unfocused impressionistic sky
deposits us back on the ground,
we walk out of our dreams
into normal, into hassle, into grief,
into the light of again
and the grinding out of another day—

a day that may find us rooting for dreams,
any dreams still flying near dawn.

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Jim Bohen is a poet and songwriter/singer living in St. Paul, MN.  His poems have appeared in the Minnesota Daily, Pinyon Review and elsewhere. His poem “Flying Near Dawn” is part of a poetry manuscript entitled “In Transit” that could use a publisher. The 2012 music CD he produced, “Never Too Late,” contains his vocals on 12 original songs (samples can be heard at cdbaby.com or iTunes under the artist name “J B and the Phantom Band”).