Up in the Air

We meet there under the willow tree
where its boughs rain down
in a circle of green light
and there's always warm tea.


We hold hands and walk
the wooded path
watching trees clap
their colored hands on the breeze.


We play hide and seek,
darting behind trees
counting to twenty
laughing in the chase.


You call my name from your hiding place
but I see only sun-spotted ferns
jutting from the ground
green swords pointing to the sky.


I rise up like smoke
and part the air like curtains.
I step through the passage
to the other side.


You greet me with a kiss
smiling into my eyes.
Taking my hands, you guide my step,
so I won't trip over clouds.


Go on to the next poem, Song of the Air.



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All poems copyrighted by the author, Tracey Besmark 1997©