To the Man in the Green Wool Cap

I saw you on the side of the highway this morning.

You stepped off the shoulder

And launched yourself into those golden trees.

A hiking backpack hugged your waist

And marked you with the title I covet most:

Adventurer.

We sped by at seventy miles per hour.

My cell phone camera, pressed to the window,

Failed over and over again

To capture those trees

And how they melted the coarse mountains

Like butter on toast.

Later I hiked two miles on a crowded trail

And returned the same night

To tap water and pillows

While you filtered spring water

And cushioned your ear against the jagged earth

With a bunched-up flannel shirt.

In your backpack, stowed away for tomorrow

Are granola bars and dreams.

My dreams.

And my fears.

My heart flees to where you are,

Beneath the cold unsympathetic stars.

I want to exhaust my body

Make my legs shake

My shoulders ache.

I want to sleep pressed against the dirt,

Sense the heightened energy of my warm blood,

Marvel at my curling toes,

And listen to the music of my electric mind.

Where are you?

And where have you gone with my dreams?

Scolding Logic calls me home.

Quit dreaming

It says.

You have school tomorrow.

Be grateful for what you have.

You are very lucky.

And so I convince my yearning heart

That it is content with day trips to the mountains.

Man in the Green Wool Cap,

Does Logic speak to you too?

Sometimes I wish it was quieter.

My life feels laid out before me

Like train tracks chasing some horizon

That doesn’t exist.

And yes, it is beautiful.

Yes, I am grateful.

But I am a dreamer.

I imagine you are too,

And we dreamers always want more.

Where are you going with those dreams of mine?

I fear they will never be more than dreams,

Dreams so small they fit in your backpack

Lightweight and disposable

Carried far across the mountains

Until they atrophy from neglect.

Man in the Green Wool Cap,

I admit I do not like you.

You have shown me my dreams

And now I can never forget them.

I cannot pretend that dreams are for movies

Because I have seen them on the side of the highway.

And they are the most beautiful thing a person can possess.

I almost wish I hadn’t seen you carrying them today,

Because now I want them back.

So I am asking you kindly,

Please return them as soon as possible.

From now on I will carry my dreams myself.

Sincerely yours,

Adventurer

This poem is about: 
Me

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