a poem by
JACOB MORAN | Student + Poet

 The inspiration for this poem stems from not knowing my biological father. I have dreamt about him a lot, and have been told repeatedly that I have his eyes. So, I wrote this poem about having a dream day with my father, in the form of a dream.

Photo by Filip Mroz

I DREAMT of you;
but you weren’t you.
We went to the fair where
you mussed my hair with a
finger filled comb to scatter
all arrangement there.

You won me a bear
I held onto for life
as you piggy-backed
me to the parlor for a slice.

Upon your broad frame
my fingers cut sky
as I saw what you see
because I have
your eyes. Or so I’m told.

Tilt-a-whirl twirled with happy cries
cloaked in you, dyed lights glide by
as time ran away

the tilt stood still while
my head atop your chest
caught your heart drum filled
for the first time ever

then time came home,
tugged at your jeans for an ice cream cone
we’d share together, irises’ steel blue
with a smirk you whispered
‘Don’t tell your mother’

And I wouldn’t dream of foiling our scheme
or hope of another dream together
but the fair is closing, eyes open soon
so I savored the seconds of that fading moon
with my eyes to the sky
heart skips, then cries
because I know when I wake
all I’ll have is your eyes.