Myth

Paul Bunyan was a friend of mine
and Johnny Appleseed too.
I knew them well when I was nine,
also that little train that “can do.”

I was so optimistic
with Crockett, Boone and Bowie.
They were so macho and mythic,
and they were always with me.

Jesse James, Wyatt Earp and The Kid
they too filled my day-dreams.
My sub-conscious Ego and Id,
my inner-cowboy and silent screams.

Do we still have these heroes?
Are they all flawed?
“Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio . . .?”
This Sicilian boy was in awe.

“I grow old, I grow old”
TSE made me aware.
My boyhood heroes have been sold
and dreams morphed to nightmares.

NOT SO FAST,
to those of you at nine.
Heroes are heroes and they last,
you see,
they’re yours and mine.


©TP/MMXIV