This good American Dream

This   good  American  Dream      

This    good nourishing American Dream

Of   copious  blooming like  Spring’s            

Freshness   singing  lullaby.

You  go  to  the rivulet  gurgling 

With  sound  as your  tiny  brass

Pot  gets filled, you  allow the

Tiny   innocent stream of   fish

With  glowing  fins  go  back

To  their   fluid  abode,          

Your  dream  visits  you    often:

There is this   mad  detractive   hurry,

rueful  run   into  the   moving  bus,

cling  to  the  rusted pillar

crumble   to  pieces,                     

Itch  on the skin , for 

Some .  scratches  are  too  many.