The House is still, not a word is spoken, not a movement is made. She takes a long slow deep breath and lets it out with a gush of air. She unfolds her wings, fragile as ice as colorful as a rainbow. She slips out her window as quiet and as sly as a fox. She stretches out her wings and lets them catch the breeze. She melts against the stars , she feels free, she feels at home. This is where she belongs; this is where she needs to be. She return covered in morning dew from head to toe. They cast small rainbows across her room. She shakes them off and falls to the bed dreaming of the stars.
March 22, 2010