By: Linda M Crate

i sat in the dandelions
dreaming,
and i began to see them:
the crows;
i read somewhere once that crows
follow those who attract the
fae,
and i wonder if you weren’t
sighing and flying and dreaming right there
with me;
reminding me to appreciate the most
simple of things—
i am the girl that hugs trees and jumps feet
first into creeks with flower crowns
and sings the songs of her heart without fear
i am brave in my heart,
but sometimes shyer in person;
i wonder if you weren’t the same way
waiting for a perfect moment
to show me the pearly white dance of your gold white wings.