The Life That Could Have Been by Kimberly Coverly

The Life That Could Have Been by Kimberly Coverly

If ants are like an African Safari,

Marching one by one in a mysterious van,

Passing grey dinosaurs the color of a can of paint,

Beautiful enough Mohammed could have painted them himself,

Then Calico cats are the Pacific ocean,

Turquoise and swimming with life,

Off the coastal route of Southern California,

An ice-cold pina colda in the hands of the rich and famous,

Kareem Abdul-Jabar while his servant feeds him,

Grapes, fresh off the vine.

Once in a dream I was entangled in soft twine,

Thinking it was a shag carpet I lay back,

Only to find myself faced with the shiny beak of a peacock.

It was his feather that I lay on,

Entrapped by Emerald, Gold, Periwinkle, and Plum.

I screamed for help, only to find my mouth full.

Macaroni and cheese was always my favorite, but not today.

That dream was strange, the likes of Neptune’s life source.

I still remember that checkered blanket and whicker basket,

Filled to the brim with sandwiches, salad, and hot coffee thermoses.

But really, how could you forget it?

That clash of metal, banging before you, life smashed on the rails.

Death.

To think life can end so quickly is not a new idea,

Yet we live life as if we’ve been awarded the golden horseshoe.

“Nothing will happen to me, I have my lucky socks on today!

See, they even have little trains on them.”

Irony.

The ants keep marching today,

Although clawed by the terror of cats,

They expect death, but are driven by life

And the unmistakable sound of a can opener signaling food.

March on.