Horizon of Our Dreams

                        Joe Turner


When we are young the possibilities of

our dreams lie beyond the horizon in a tangled blur,

and like our shadows, wherever we may go or

whatever we may do, the horizon of our dreams

glides on ahead of us, magnificently undefined,

luminous in their promise.  

In time, we are wounded and battered by the constant

collapse of reality about us. We grow old. 

We are sobered by our age, and the circle of

our diminished dreams gather ever closer to us. 

In the end, the dreams hang like a nooseabout                                                                              our necks, gray and well defined, and we ask?                                                                               Is it we or the dreams that die?