They say old hearts do not
like old dreams to go unachieved
and uncalled for. They say,
when the winds blow with a finesse
unheard of, and the trees shiver as if they knew
what was about to befall them,
and the black cats all creep into shadows
even darker than they are—
the toads will be asleep under rocks
no one will ever know the names of,
dreaming old dreams of gold
and silver men, with gold and silver hearts
who can neither dream nor sleep—
nor do they want to.
© Jim Kleinhenz