Dream of a Superman

my power waned

I was the problem

things got better
when I decided to surrender
myself to the light
of that beautiful yellow sun

I took flight
too seriously
it was supposed to be a joy
not a burden

I had forgotten that

I floated for a moment
saw myself reflected
in a window
thirty stories up

the people beneath me
gathered on the sidewalks
to look up
utter trust on their faces

if there are angels
it is they

for all my power
it is not absolute

but when they work together
they can solve
almost any problem

the only risk
is that the lull
lasts too long
that we fail to act
when we should

that thought startled
me awake

I turned over
rearranged my bedsheets
into a cape on my back
and returned to sleep
and to joyful flight

/ / /

This poem was written in response to the Wordle 5 prompt at a wordling whirl of Sundays.

And added to The Poetry Pantry at Poets United.

I’m a full week late on this one. I’m getting back into the swing of things now that my school year is over. As I respond to certain prompts, I’ll be catching up with others’ poems.

10 thoughts on “Dream of a Superman

  1. Yay! A fun read. I love the rearrangement of the bedsheets into a cape before returning to sleep! What a clever line. Great response to the prompt. ~Paula

    P.S. Should “look” be “took” in the 7th line?


    • Paula, thank you. I don’t know if it’s a clever line, but it is something I used to do as a child.

      And thanks for catching that typo for me. It should be “took”. I’ve now fixed it.



  2. This is my first visit to your site and like yourself I have a full time job but have a passion for writing. I enjoyed reading this piece and will return to see what else you have going on. Thanks!


  3. Richard, am really glad you went back and ‘caught’ these words from last week. Love the story and I too know that trick of the sheet pulled round like a cape. Wonderful way to end the poem, have to smile at the joyful flight.



    • Elizabeth, I have to keep up with Brenda’s wordles; I look forward to them each Sunday. I know for a lot of adolescent boys, it’s all about power and strength. But I always wanted to fly.



  4. It’s never too late, Richard, especially for a lighthearted play to brighten our day.

    I fear many of us grow so accustomed to reading our favorite poets every day that we forget that they are human and have lives away from the keyboard. I almost went into withdrawal when I was unable to write for a week or so.


    • Mike, thanks for that. I don’t think of myself as terribly prolific or a terribly fast writer. It takes me some time, so I’m often way down on the list adding my link in response to a prompt. But I know I can count on fine people such as yourself to read my poems. I greatly appreciate that. And there are just certain ideas that have to be explored.



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