by Ross Voorhees

Created on: February 04, 2009

I have a memory
that to this day
still haunts me.

As a very small child
I could fly.
Not soaring through the skies
but running, running through the grassy meadow
take a step up
and float along
on a stretched out stride
until a slow descent
to the soft, moist earth.

Not an unreasonable distance
but longer than what today
seems possible.

Was it just a dream
or a delirious, fevered moment
that entangled itself
somewhere between reality
and fantasy.

Or was it simply
an exercise
of someone else pointing out
that the ground was harder
than I realized.

I like to believe
that I really could.

To this day
I cannot say.

But I like to believe
I could.

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