golden goose

golden goose
(title by tkk)

i once thought there was actually a 

pot of gold

at the end of the rainbow

but the last night i drove through one

at the end of it, was just the simply the start of 

the wet rain-slicked road

when santa claus came every year in his fire-engine truck

with dancing elves that 

looked a lot like the kids from the nearby 

middle school pizza hut on the corner

mom told me that santa claus wasn't real,

but who could deny the white bearded man

outside my window that night that i thought

i was going to pillowland

and land fueled of fantasy and wonderful

and my own bedroom

if golden goose feathers were good luck

then i might have a pillow full of them

sticking my dreams between the soft dawny wings 

of my sleep

storing them away from the haters and takers of the world

keeping them for that harsh winter of sleep

where all the conscious negativity seeps in

building winged fortress around me

protecting slumber and secrets.

--ann