I Were Young Again
spread of long winter blanket again.
ten years I have lived in exile,
in this rickety cabin, shoulder
up against the open Alberta sky.
I were young again Id sing of the coolness of high
snow flowers, the sprinkle of night glow-blue
would dream and stretch slim fingers into the distant nowhere,
slowly over the endless prairie miles.
and grassland where in summer silence grows
and spreads eagle wings out like warm honey.
I were young again Id eat pine cones, food of birds,
meals with wild animals; Id have as much dessert as wanted,
Reach out into blue sky and lick the clouds off my fingers.
Im not young anymore and my thoughts torment,
raw and overworked, sharpened misery from torture
Of war and childhood.
ten years now I have lived locked in this unstable cabin,
the rush of summer winds,
the air beaten dim with snow.
Lee Johnson lives in Chicago, Illinois, after spending ten
years in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada during the Viet Nam era. He
is a freelance writer and poet. He is interested in social and
religious topics, and the need for universal health care in the
United States. He is presently self-employed, with a previous
background in social service areas. He has a BA in sociology and
worked on a Masters Program in Correctional Administration.
Michael Lee Johnson