And like a
Cold winter blast
We became frozen
Stuck where we
Were huddling in
Place waiting for
The gale to
Finish its furry
Now the icycles
That we became
Are being warmed
By the sun
Thawing and splashing
Into the cistern
That we are
Fresh and clear
I’m looking for
The wind something
Invisible that moves
Something stormy something
Chilling and something
Still I’m looking
For the wind
For my kite
Lifting lifting lifting
Me up to
Fly dodging about
In the sky
I’m looking for
The breeze on
Hot summer days
A friend that’s
With me always
My dear boy
I know that
You feel like
A fly trapped
Inside a glass
Room trying to
Find its way
Out you can
See what’s over
There but you
Can’t reach it
One day you’ll
Either get used
To being inside
Or trust that
A window will
Crack and you’ll
Be set free
To buzz about
Happiness is found
In whispers not
Statements in a
Dish of food
Given of flowers
That bloom in
The morning of
Change found in
Pockets and old
Jokes repeated happiness
Isn’t found in
Others it’s found
Only there in
Your own words
And simple actions
I’d rather live
Life than save
It I’d rather
Run when I
Can love who
I will and
Fail every time
I don’t want
To save something
As precious as
Life for when
I am old
Let me live
Now crazy and
Expressive and true
To my self
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 