the Overlap (another poem)

The overlap between these dreams and reality dance in that small area between where the wave breaks and the water recedes

somewhere lost in the midst of a little child

the water rushes by

rushing by before pulling back as toes slowly sink, covered by the itching grains of tumbling sands caught in the middle

what is real

and what are dreams other than these inside burnings and yearnings manifested like moths for heat to the fire

what is it about the edge that pulls us closer
repels us further from the nonsense
the white noise
pulling us ever so snugly by the tips of our thoughts and antennae into the unknown and
that hazy cough of distant possibility

i am stuck in between

the sun is setting upon the end of the wilderness generation

and rising upon a new millennium
the circus of electronic essence and mechanical mimicry

of global dimming, global warming
a new set of deadly sinning while concrete wolves are suavely swarming

an unfamiliar ecotone where the niche is paved for greed

yet hope eases into the scene overlooked by many
not taken seriously by most
awaiting

awaiting, the chance to rise

but my feet are stuck now and the tide is rising
the pull is stronger and efficient profit is downsizing

while my neighbors lose their jobs their kids play with plastic toys made in a land so far away

their minds etch and mold the paths for little toy cars like some twisted voodoo as we all drive more
and more
and more

inevitably, for fate or boredom, into that head on collision crash

the overlap between these dreams and reality dance almost smoothly and precariously too close on the razor of denial and acceptance.