Twilight shadowing west, even the willow looks tired.  I've mellowed to a calmer state, teeter tottering to acceptance.  

You smile, I'm up tilted over the playground, swinging toward freedom from those depths.

A minute shifts the world, word, face turns to the other side of real and bumps dirt, stones again, like a sliding board with rust -- you won't slip straight through, but scratch down part way, or you go around, around.

Someone spins the wheel, crazy running, sky twists into kaleidoscope shards.  Dizzy. You want to oh just jump off, catch bearings.

Some kids can go straight across the monkey bars, hand to hand in smooth self-propelled ride, settling feet first, striding to evening.

Did you ever wish to close your eyes and wake up 8 again?

I wish the mist
would swallow me --
it swallows trees
in white oceans
where I could swim
across valleys,
peering at birds
asleep below.

I would ride slow currents of clouds -- catching the crest of the morning until soft waves slip me ashore... then drift away to summer skies....

Poised before an impossibility, I pause to pontificate the simplicity of a leaf, drifting down on a sigh of serendipity --skimming, soaking,  finally riding the current beneath it, alone.

Embracing without question, it feels its way with muted perception as the world floats by, subdued.