Cold and callous December morn, <br />the magpies were mute. <br />Cynthia resigned herself to <br />stoically collecting tolls on <br />The New York State Thruway. <br /> <br /> <br />The radio blared 'Rudolph The Red-Nosed <br />Reindeer, ' keening her awareness of <br />the logic inherent in magical thinking. <br /> <br /> <br />She closed her eyes to improve God's <br />hearing and prayed: 'Take me to <br />an Acapulco beach drenched with <br />sun, ceviche, and tequila.' <br /> <br /> <br />Elvis Presley began nibbling <br />on her toes. God's ways are <br />mysterious to humanity, <br />not to God.<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-much-more-than-dreams/
