A Story on Flight

The mood was right;


loud noises,

babies crying,

tight spaces.


You notice all the curves and lines you would have never saw.

Some people close their eyes, while others look out the small glass cirvle to admire

white cotton candy and mix of green and blue. No matter your place at the moment,

you dream of the adventure to come when you reach the place where the ants roam.


The mood is right;

head dreaming,

loud thooughts,

babies learning,

new spaces. 

This poem is about: 


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