Tettering on this broken log
I can reach the sky,
pump my legs
and push off
to the clouds I fly.
Slowing...
I wait for the fall
from the impossible heights,
I will come down again.
But next time,
next time,
I will fly to the sky.
Pushing up I jump
off the tilting wood,
soaring among the clouds
with white kittens
and streamers drifting by.
Stepping down on the fluffy white
I walk around on a cottonball.
Looking down I peek,
so far to go back down,
back to the splintered stump.
Close my eyes,
count to three,
step off to oblivion.
Hair streaming,
heart pounding,
wind streaming
across my face,
until I touch the world again,
and look up at the clouds,
wishing for it again.
Author notes
5) When we were kids we had the wildest imaginations. We could do anything, pretend to be anyone, silly was just in our nature. Let go of those inhibitions and break down those "I'm a grown-up" barriers and let it all hang out!
A contest entry
- Absolute Nonsense! by marciakay81.
525 points, ended June 4, 2008, 16 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think? How can I improve? What was your least favorite part? Your favorite?
Comments
-
cool
nice imagery.
-
Wonderful! I think we all wished we could fly when we were kids. Great write.
Adding your comment:
