“What Happens to a Dream Delivered?”
 
Is it propped into permanence in its ripest moment 

Becoming a dens mantle piece 
Sharing glances with a bucks empty glossy eyes 
 
Or maybe it’s digested seeds find fertile ground 
 
Becoming a tree weaving oxygen into the sky 
 
Or do the limps sprout and screech like a Hydra in a hazy atmosphere 

Wanting everything but to die