The Elated Dream

March 17, 2008

A precious feather.
Glorified by the mere shining of day.
Weightless in the distance,
swaying to and through.
The humming winds of tomorrow dance with frightening ease.

I reach out for the precious,
dainty feather.
It taunts and teases,
inches from my grasp.

If only. If only I could take flight.
Soaring through the heavens.
No need for precious feathers then.
No need for unruly dreams.


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