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Dream Flight
by Kay D. Weeks

Looking at roof lines,
into the skeletal trees
and sky above,

All the while
silently reflecting,
musing, wondering
if perhaps I'm missing
something important
here on the ground...
but no acknowledgement,
no return, no voice, no sound.

So I've made a pact with self,
to listen, listen beyond the rind,
to what the crows are saying...
and pondering the thought
that if I were to catch their eye
and softly "caw" three times,

If I could rise, ghost-like
from this troubled earth
and, almost dream-like,
join them on a limb,
and if all of that,
one might turn to look at me
and ask the other mourning birds,

If, once in my wanting life...
would look at me, then say,
"Yes, please join us, just this once."
I would nod with gratitude,

and fly with them.

 

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