OverTheRainbow

i, like many poets, have wondered a million times what it would be like to be a bird: soaring high above the trees, unburdened by life's banal worries. something primal and free. 

Norman walked briskly through the terminal, gripping his briefcase with white knuckles. The importance of oneself, Norman thought, was defined by the limitations of one’s vision of themselves.

the sound of laughter through sun-spotted trees,

i dreamed last night we were fae frolicking 

in rings of toadstools, in and out of trees.

fireworks went off in my head as 

two weeks ago we were stuck in the plains 

somewhere in the midwest with no service. you pulled out 

some 1999 AAA member's map and said 

"crack it open," and i still loved you, even then. words flowed

I finished the story, 

How can that be true? 

I don't want it to end, 

What are their futures? 

It doesn't feel real, 

And I can't believe it is over. 

If you had a genie in a bottle

and it told you that you could make any 3 wishes

You would not wish for gold

you would not wish for riches

you would not wish for fame.

You would wish for wars to end