The Commander’s Broom

Out of their front window
the boy discovered in the tree
a branch that he’d seen in a dream,
a broom that he had to have,
he didn’t know what for.

But have it he must
and his father cut the branch
they laid with the treasures
he re-discovered years later.

Again the dream.
This time he mounted the broom!
flying toward what he didn’t know.
In successive nights
his purpose emerged:
we must kill the terrorists.
He entered the Secret Police
rose to Commander in the blink of an eye.
Congressmen and presidents tremble before him.

In the dark, unable to sleep
eyes half closed,
sinister figures present themselves.
He tries to see their faces
as they quickly slip away.

Robert A. Davies has published in recent years largely online. He has been writing poems seriously since 1969. He has published Timber, Tracks in Oregon, Melons and Mendelssohn, and Bluff Hollow. He was co-editor of Mr. Cogito for about 20 years. He has recently appeared in Dissident Voice and Windfall He can be reached at: Read other articles by Robert A..