Ghazal of Lost Dreams

by Antonia Clark

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Ghazal of Lost Dreams

To consider the distance, the ever-receding horizon.
To go on, to follow the hurtling train of your dreams

To acknowledge the mountain, to search for the pass
despite cliffs and landslides, the bleak terrain of your dreams.

To know what you’ve ruined, what’s torn beyond mending,
cannot be rewoven, the raveling skein of your dreams.

To have handled the knife, tested the edge of the blade,
to have bled from the jugular vein of your dreams.

To go into the wilds without map or compass,
straining after the haunted refrain of your dreams.

To scrabble for purchase, without reason or promise,
when delusions are all that remain of your dreams.


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