Flight of fancy
I feel that my arms have been turned into wings
that I’m suddenly able to fly,
to glide through the air looking down on the things
that can only be viewed from the sky.
I’m up on that branch and I’m ready to go.
I can launch from my perch in a blink,
creating a distance from all that’s below
and without even having to think.
Of course I will never take off from a tree
but, although it may seem quite absurd,
I’m instantly weightless and totally free
when I chance to look up at a bird.
Jenny said: This poem developed as I walked the length of Hadrian’s Wall through the beautiful English countryside.