Popcorn

Every day is new. 

With every possibility, 

Every day can change. 

So why shouldn’t we change? 

Black pebbles on the ground,

ricocheting as you and I fall down. 

The current of the stream, 

flowing like your mountain of dreams.

Black circles under your eyes,

I sit here wishing I write each memory down.

Each drop of my storm,

Enough droplets to hint a faded rainbow beyond.

Something to leave behind

She dreamed she could fly

way off into the big blue sky.

All she really wanted

was to leave her worries behind

soar like a hawk

or maybe a dove.

Somedays she was a hawk

and others a mourning dove.