With head up in the clouds, I carry on.
My dreams, alone, escape and climb aloft
Upon the wings of feathered siblings,
Brothers of my fantasies.
I slip with ease into a moment
That I traveled long ago
In old Vermont, and here am I.
As we drive closely to the bank
She walked swiftly down the stairs.
Her ponytail flowed shining from a flower
Made of white rushing such as nurses used
To trim their caps that perched so crisply