Childhood dreams

A child of thirteen
“I dreamed Bobby Kennedy was shot…”
But it wasn’t a dream
Head nearly on the floor
Held tenderly
By a busboy
The dream was over

Before then
“I dreamed Martin Luther King was shot…”
But it wasn’t a dream
Lying a pool of blood
In Memphis
The dream was over

So close in so many ways
Distances made small
Carrying care in their own ways
Giving dreams
To a world thirsting
For them so, still
Their hopes live
The cost not free

©2018 Christopher Nielsen