Light
That's how I feel-
like the winter-fringed
breeze might scoop
me up into its wings,
fly
away with me trapped
in its feathered embrace.
I am a snowflake.
A wisp of eiderdown,
liberated
from gravity. My body
is light. Ephemeral.
My head is light.
I want to sway
beneath
the weight of air,
dizzy with thought.
Light filters through
my closed eyelids.
The sun,
chasing shadows,
tells me I'm not
afloat in dreams.
— Ellen Hopkins
light