Poetry Appearing in Poetry In Motion® Portland

Work Dream

Carl Adamschick

If my job were pollination,
I'd punch in early.
If my job were to walk
on soft petals and bump
the stamen of its fine gold
flour, if my job were to fly
in midday on my own wings
and leave a trail of sundust,
if this were my job,
I'd take no money, I'd give my time.
If this were my job I'd come home
to the honeycomb singing.
 
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"Work Dream." Copyright © 1999 by Carl Adamschick. Reprinted by permission of the author.

 

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