I flew.

C L O U D S

Like a floor

Out my window

Clouded with fog

Dancing in mountains

Rising upward and out

Hiding airplanes with tails and buildings that leave cuts in the sky

An escape route

Y O U C A N D O A N Y T H I N G U P H E R E they say

B E B E T T E R they say

I listen to their music

Where the sky is endless and high plateaus of white thrive

I hear the soft sound

The clouds are right

They tell the truth the way a flower blooms each year-

Not always, but ceaselessly nevertheless

Inspiring beauty and dread

So far into the ocean of sky

I flew

In a dream, perhaps

But perhaps the not-flying, perhaps the landing was the dream

I flew

And I am better for it.