The plane door flies open,
I teeter over the edge.
The birds circle below me,
My heart longs to be with them.
The closest I will ever be
To soaring across the skies
With them is this.
To my side,
I watch as wispy clouds
Float.
How simple it must be to just
Float.
Below me, many fields
Cover the ground.
I throw myself
Down towards the greenery.
I tumble through the emptiness.
Hoping I never reach the end,
But, alas, my feet hit the floor
And the reality comes at me
Like a gust of wind.
-
Author:
Skye Bellasario (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 4th, 2017 15:59
- Category: Short story
- Views: 33
Offline)
Comments2
That would be fun. If only I could get past the feeling of falling. ; )
I am so excited, when it comes to falling I am completely the opposite I love the feeling
Take one for me. ; )
Sounds like a blast, Sky! Have a great time on your birthday. Enjoyed your poem,
Thank you Louis!
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