I Have Dreamed a Hundred Whispers

I have dreamed a hundred whispers

Whispered in the moon lit sky

Some were soft while others

Were often loud


Those scared me

And I ran back to my dead mother’s arms

She always held me tight

And always will


It’s hard for some people to see a ghost

And even if they do

they only see a ghost.


It’s like looking as a burnt out light bulb

and seeing a burnt out light bulb

Only the filament is dead

As only the heart and lungs are dead.


I would like–someday–to grow a thousand feet tall

And look into Heaven and wave hello to mom

But–I’d never wave goodbye

I did that once . . . and once is too many times.


To read my thoughts about writing this poem, follow this link.

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About lymangrant

Lyman Grant is a professor of creative writing and humanities at Austin Community College. He has work at ACC since 1978. He is the author or editor of two textbooks, two books relating to Texas literature, three volumes and a chapbook of poetry. Recently he traveled the United States for a year in a 34-foot RV 5th wheel trailer with his wife and two younger sons.