Charlie's Dream Poem

I think it still exists among
the moth-balled things
in yesterday's attic
in the land of lost letters,
dust-covered photos,
clothes fitting Studio-54
fashion.
Lyrical piece,
sung one night
while studying
the canvass -
your ceiling.
Food was the subject,
how it filled your dreams,
became the ceiling,
inspiration
sustenance,
meaning
purpose
hope.

Charlie,
do you still write
poetry?