My Little Story

Lift a wish, weigh a breath,
hold a bag of feathers.
I’m finding out
in my seventh decade,
that’s what life comes down to.

I’m delighted to lighten
to let the wind
have my little story,
and blow the ponderous past
into a wisp.

I’m still in a body but
my being can easily fly.
I still savor cherries
but the taste is airy,
a dance of gratitude in the mouth.

It’s the fighting that’s gone,
the anvil of struggle.
That anchor severed,
that resistance released,
I float like a dandelion puff.

©Susa Silvermarie 2021

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