I couldn't find room for the elephant
Until I moved my keyboard out of the loft
Into the basement by the woodstove.
I prayed for Putin last night.
I prayed for Putin and Ukraine and myself.
And got a dream for all my trouble.
My wife and I were driving through a neighborhood
Where people were standing
At the ends of their driveways
With posters, singing protest songs.
Everyone was involved.
There was a lot of spirit in the songs
By the mailboxes
Like angry Christmas carols.
Then we were walking up through the woods
Looking for a certain sacred tree and we found it.
In the branches were the bones of a large animal.
The vertebrae and leg bones and part of a skull.
We thought it might be a young elephant.
The grisly backbone was draped
From the branches like a Christmas chain.
Apparently a little boy was behind it.
He hoisted the bones up there by himself.
How could he have managed?
Yes, said my friend
Who knew the boy's father.
His anger gave him super powers, so they say.
My dream could have ended there
But it continued.
We returned to the neighborhood
Where the protests were winding down.
We stopped to talk with some people.
Did you hear the song we were singing?
The woman who was speaking was so proud.
As I woke she was asking me again,
Did you hear the song?
