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I push away from the shore in a white canoe of dreams,
I navigate it swiftly through glassy crystal streams,
I stop and visit the island of people I used to know,
They stand on the shore and wave goodbye when I tell them I must go,
I see a bridge ahead, of opportunities long passed,
And I glide beneath it’s archway into a sea of mistakes so vast,
I quickly press forward toward a yellow light aglow,
It’s the light on the porch of my childhood home, and my arms refuse to row,
The house suddenly bids me come, and I step from my canoe of dreams,
And go inside for a little while and relive some childhood scenes,
The dark night sky has lightened, and morning is coming soon,
So I step back into my canoe of dreams in the light of the fading moon,
I let the glassy crystal sea pull me towards my cozy bed,
And I wake up from my dreamland travels with shadows in my head.

Poet Becky Shepherd is a resident of Winchester.