February 2006

Flying Past the City, Past the Harbor

Had there been no jets with their boom and fade, no Main Street parades

or

any other smile, would I ever then look past my own reflection, see the

way the world will dance.



And would I ever dare the dream: you, out there with your distant

light, my glimmer in the far-reach. Would I believe that hope is the tide that

carries you in, the breath beneath these wings, the horizon where we

meet:

water and sky, water and sky.



Darling, there is a sweet and nearing someday.

copyright 2006 Susan Culver