I used to dream of flying
up, up, up, away
to a land where problems didn’t exist
where all lived in peace and harmony.
Hands raised skyward,
I jumped, flapped legs and arms,
propelled myself higher, higher, higher,
far from bullies, bad teachers,
impossible bosses, noisy neighbors,
trials of a family caregiver.
Surrounded by blue and white,
I looked down on the world, content.
Now, with childhood and husband gone,
my job behind me,
I look at the sky,
no longer wish to go there.
I’ve found my happy place.
This poem has been published on Voxpoetica