Broken Dreams

Nancy Standlee

Nancy Standlee

I hold in my hand
the broken pieces of dreams
They’ve been given me by strangers
who feel they can no longer carry them
Do they know that giving me their broken things
won’t free them from the burden of their brokenness?
Can it be it only makes the task of bearing them
lighter since it is now a burden shared?
I think it’s knowing this sacred secret
has brought them to my door
dared them to trust

I hold in my trembling hand
the broken pieces of dreams


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to Broken Dreams

  1. Cheryl says:

    Great observation. I’ve been both the receiver and giver of the broken pieces, and I’ve often marveled that these exchanges seem to happen most often between strangers or mere acquaintances.


    • Thanks, Cheryl, for the kind response . . . Somehow people have a sense when we can be a bridge over troubled waters . . . And yes! There are those who have been such for me to in this life . . . Blessings . . .


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