Songs of dreams jump the river,
heavy with nights and clouded rains.
Scuffed shoes on the beach and
shirt tails shake the wind.
The Nickel Bar calls the faithful
by aroma, even the sour and stale
from the evening before.
Johnny comes home, proud to be
standing. The hope of many buried
in suitcases of lost goals where the
land gasps one more time.
Wish upon a star while sleeping
with visions. Around the next curve
could be home.
Roger Singer 