i never had a beach house

this is another sad poem

it goes like this

 

i was in my teens

and pictured in my mind

living in a beach house

with a small boat

living as a writer

 

this world

would include no worries

just fun and love

and

living off the money from

poems published in magazines

and poetry book sales

 

by now you

know how it turned out

 

it went like this . . .

 

i had a good beginning —

religious magazines

gladly paid for poems

and sent me magazines

when poems were published

 

book sales

were slow for a couple of years

and for no apparent reason

began selling throughout here

and then Canada and England

 

i am not sure what happened next

or why . . .

 

it was like someone

flipped a light switch off

 

and that dream

of the cabin and boat on the beach

disappeared