Even at this age,
I still want to be
foolish. Blow bubbles
at the full moon. Dance
barefoot at high tide.
Wear my jean jacket
on a first blind date.
I refuse to be
the serious man,
weighed down by awful
solemnity, age.
I will not pretend
to be anyone
but who I am:
dandelion seed,
ephemeral whirl,
tiny parachute
taking short refuge
on the antennae
of gold honeybees,
a dragonfly’s spine.
Like Leonardo,
I dream of being
unfettered, airborne.
A seagull gliding,
wings spread against sky,
riding the current
of storm winds, bluster.
© by Gerard Wozek. All rights reserved.
Gerard Wozek, exceptional being
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