she has her head in the clouds
in the whispy grandfather beards and elephant noses
the fuzzy eagles and people and white fluffy roses
she lives in the hum that taps in her ears
the highway-gray and blizzard-white
black horse thunders she's seen through the years
she's in love with the images up in the sky
forget all the reasons to keep your feet on the ground
traverse above where there's not even a sound
don't be afraid as you begin to fly
her mind painting bright blue the world doesn't rumble
lungs that breathe the finest air without nerves in a bundle
her head's in the clouds and she won't come down
for up with there's not even a trace
of animosity that could ever lie in a place
she'll curate her own heaven
the arms of the earth never cold
it'll hug you and love you
the friends ever bold.
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
