in my dreams
I still ride my Harley
I am, if anything, bolder
I am at least ten years younger
invincible still
invulnerable even
attractive to young women
and attracted certainly
the world is as I never knew it
kind
encouraging
and full of hope
until, of course
something good is about to happen
something I worked for
the sky becomes a shark's mouth
the air a tornado
a dozen fathers surround me
a jury of my father repeated
or a hanging mob of hers
either way
they herd me toward the funnel
and my boots no longer hold me
to the ground
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