I’ve always wished to fly;
ever since my sunset squiggles
of a grade schooler’s scrawls –
those birds that seemed to rise
up and away to some world
where light never lacked.
Whatever that meant.
Perhaps, now, where love’s never lost.
Whatever that means –
if ever such a thing could ever last,
or be ever lost.
But these clouds only curtain.
They simply mask what light still shines while it sets.
But its light still shines
somewhere in those old grade school scribbles.
But I miss those Florida-bound birds;
I miss their glistening wings on warmer winds.
I miss their sunset world
I could never imagine.
I can only imagine.
And though, now I know why,
I still wish to fly.