Tag Archives: Dreams

In the Glass I See

There in the glass I see a sixteen year old boy with an old man’s mask on. I begin to notice the dark circles under the green eyes that sparkle; nothing dull yet; but his glasses do need cleaning. I see white stubble and mustache with a two inch long goatee on his saddening face; like he’s had no reason to shave in the past few days. Looking closer I see the goatee covers a weak double chin with a single wrinkle that goes down the length of his neck. The same white stubble covers his shaved head to cover the thinning bald spot in the back and what’s left of his front hairline.
His round upturned nose reminds me of a Santa’s nose, but there’s a thin scar going diagonal from the left nostril to the top that makes his nose tilt to the right side of his face. His cheekbones are set high, but it seems to highlight the dark circles more. The ears are long and close to the head.
Wait a minute… he’s starting to smile with a broad grin and his eyes are lighting up and sparkling even more. His whole face transforms and laughs a little with a tear rolling down his cheek and then is when I happily succumb to my fate realizing the old man is me and that my wrinkles are really my laugh lines. My green eyes are still that of the sixteen year old from so many years ago… but they’re still with me today.

© 2011 Michael Yost 12/10

Pete

childrens-portrait-photographer-elliot-jonah-bridge-1

That’s Pete and myself 20 years ago.
Today I walked the rail alone, because Pete had to ride.
It was a beautiful coach and everything;
He always looked his best in his dress blues.

It was a beautiful spring morning then too.
The ground was soft that morning and fruitful;
The worms we got were huge and the trout ate em up.
Almost as big as the ones crawling out from under that tarp.

I brought this picture today to remember important things.
Pete’s sacrifice is obvious and full of meaning.
What’s not so obvious is that
Pete greased the last three feet of that rail.

©2011 Michael Yost 01/14

Pete is everyone’s brother, son and father

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Melancholy Mood, Bob Dylan

Stop Sign

Yesterday I believe was our start
Today marks the binding of our hearts
Tomorrow starts the journey of our love
With the showing of the two white doves

The world was our bumpy road ahead
Laughing with each new bump as we sped
Not a care or worry crossed our minds
That is before they ran a stop sign

The angels were there to push our car
Before the semi got very far
Still the semi hit the brakes
Saving all our lives for Heaven’s Sake

© 2016 Michael Yost 03/17

My Final Sin

I question my motives everyday
Trying to find the righteous way
Not giving into a hateful fate
Nor pushing through or jumping gates

Not giving into the path of ease
Coming across like you meant to please
Opening my heart and letting you in
Was my final mistake my final sin

© 2016 Michael Yost 03/17

Adjusting Words Past

Come over here and sit by me
On the soft grass under the oak tree
Dreams faded away paint cracked and curled
Once were the days you were still my girl

Deny not the smiles they were real
Fears from broken hearts past did peel
Let’s make things right don’t go astray
Adjust the words I said and didn’t say

The sun’s going down the end of the day
Look at the time spent we’ve had to pay
We have to go now and I don’t know how
Accepting defeat again with closure now

Let me give hope back filling your heart
Give it a chance we’ll have a new start
With our tracks behind us converging
Let’s be together once again merging

Don’t take me down on bending knees
I don’t want to but beg I will please
If it’s your will then I’ll push this rock
Never again your door will I knock

© 2012 Michael Yost 3/22

Under Her Cup

Keep your only love under your cup
Don’t let your eyes settle too long on him
While sitting at the long table for sup
Close your eyes for prayer and hymn

Your father watches you close to see
Whether your blue eyes remain shut tight
And he can’t see your foot rub his knee
Suddenly the ground shook with a fright

More pleading prayers and hymns calmed the earth
Then a black cloud and red fire spewed up
Like labor opening giving birth
Her secrets out up from her love’s cup

© 03/12 Michael Yost 2016