Mary Lynne Evans
Eric at Sixteen

Last night, my son, I dreamed
you were a kudu,
majestic, tawny, striped,
horns twisted in a silent dance
with agile hooves.
I tried to dress you in my favorite gown,
green satins, silk and gold
You shied away
and blazed the air.
Lip split over yellow teeth
told me
I could not follow you.

© 1995 by Mary Lynne Evans

Mary Lynne Evans's poetry has appeared in Brussels Sprout and Surprise Me. She works as a land use planner and lives in Seattle.