She daydreams of taking a running leap
off the top of a daisy covered hill.
Cool air rushes up around her
pushing against her soft brown skin,
blowing her thick hair back, leaving
a trail of curly blackness floating in the wind.
She reaches out as she falls.
Her dropping away becomes flying
not like a bird, more an angel,
a dignified floating. With eyes closed,
she allows the whooshing wind
to erase her memory, the good, the bad,
and everything outside of this moment.
The pain of her recent miscarriage and broken marriage,
dissipates in the wind like white confetti flowing through
the air; numbing her emotions,
reversing her weakness.
A smile hesitantly blossoms across
her tear stained face.
She opens her eyes and falls out of misery
and into peace.
45 Magazine Women's Literary Journal 