Tuesday, January 5, 2016
These Weird Breeze Riding Dreams... (Dreams in Flight II)
Somewhere, distant bells ring ~
Escape Artist Me makes my run
down the sunken, weed-grown and leaf
encroached pavement blocks.
Leaping with every young fiber of me
onto a clear windwall of misted air
and along the block, I glide, and I glide...
Past the drives, past the lawns, past
the pinched faces and pointing fingers,
over their heads and their rock-kicking feet.
Slight arrow speeding
with curled-toe ease
I know it,
and I know
not truly flying,
And I know,
to avoid fear and fall,
Rudely, the phone rings...
The Sun isn't up, yet. But I can already tell what kind of day it's going to bring.
My feet hit the floor.