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Fantasy From a Small Window

Air’s rarified up here

icicles shiver on scratched window

far below, dinosaur skin resolves

itself.  I see folds of mountain range,

hairline tapeworm fracture wends

between the wrinkled trails

into a blue unwinking eye. Under

casual thrown blanket


Your absent minded hand touches my leg,

must be by mistake


Cyclops moves from left to right

more thin strokes appear, crisscross

the surface,  fingernails tracing

patterns as sky lightens

becoming clearer like


Something out of a fantasy

materializing in a dawning of realization

mountain purple dissolving into

green so steady, unzipping into

valleys and clusters of something

deliberate, dwellings perhaps, fields,

brushstrokes of an artist’s hand


Confident.  Down there streams

conjoin into a broader river

swelling now in size and thickness

across the landscape and suddenly

the sun appears over the horizon

a ball of flame exploding me,

the river, the houses, the fields

into blinding flying fragments


Abrupt as it began, its all over

we fasten seatbelts pull our

seats upright, prepare for landing

embarrassed a little I trundle

my suitcase past customs

no one glances at me.  I look

around you’ve disappeared

as if you never were


I didn’t even ask your name

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© Johnmichael Simon



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