Nonfiction I have given up fiction Of all kinds For now Illusions Delusions Wishful thinking And short stories Novels Thrillers Romances And tall tales I have given up white swans And black swans Stopped transforming frogs Into princesses And got a grip A handle A firm grasp On reality Letting those romantic dreams drift away Like morning fog Burned off By a rising sun I am content with things as they are Putting fantasy Pipe dreams And desire In that ash heap That dust bin That oaken hope chest Where the shards And the remnants Gathering in a simple pile May soon Hopefully Be forgotten