exit 55, the old woman allowed,
would give me my due fate.
to another ancient harlot i bowed
yet, blithely took my place.

i figured soon i'd have to join her.
for just what i didn't know,
watching her and the door to the diner.
for an answer or hint to where i should go.

he was stooped and shindly and had scraggly teeth,
"what's it ya' need young man?" was his query.
"that old woman there's filled me with grief."
says i got demons, and why wasn't i leary?

"Baron Munchausen's, the name"
as i stood slack-jawed, he let me know.
and dreamin's my game."
i muttered, breathless, "ah, Morgan's how i go."

"like the pirate?" he asked, with a chuckle.
i said "maybe" & him & his fast-foot dancing,
under this weight i's about to buckle.
from all he'd said at our chancing.

"look here son let's board my three-master."
i grabbed his cape's tail
and again he turned, this time even faster.
a nano-second and i'm full-sail.

ground became farther, the earth, smaller still.
and on his magic, flashy three-master
we flew, up, up and away, we grew tiny until
i caught my breath and with senses gathered.

"Whereya' goin'?", i yelled, into a cold wind.
"your heart's desire, your every whim."
"nowhere, everywhere and anywhere, my friend."
and to hold on tight, just follow him.

i held on for a fortnight, or an hour.
he said, "Morgan is Celt, means forthright and strong."
as he grinned and squinted offering me a glower.
"and if i'm to believe that, would i be wrong?"

"well," i stuttered, unsure what to say.
him laughing, guffawing, and a smirk on his face.
i looked at him, and him having his way.
i's feeling stupid, i'd been put in my place.

he said, "morgan, you've nothing to fear."
when you awake i'll not be here.
i'll be gone for good,
just remember this day and where you stood.
this day before Munchausen, master of disguise
and ponder this dream should make one wise
for seeing oneself on no uncertain terms
would give one pause for those concerned
with this life and with others;
those whom you love, and those you can't"
thereby make me a better man, a good guy, perchance.

for what we see is not always for real,
others look too,
thru a different colorwheel.

03/31/2005

Posted on 03/31/2005
Copyright © 2024 Charlie Morgan