Wait, She Says
Wait,
she says,
please don’t leave.
But—you have to.
Life, you see, it starts
small, then grows big, grows up—
until our dreams are bigger
than the sky can hold in its hands.
At some point we stop dreaming, but not
because we carefully decide the best
time for dreams to end. It happens quiet—
like the first leaf falling from a tree.
Then, slowly, we all start to notice
the sunlight each day is shrinking,
and the sky’s hands are empty.
You used to run, but now
you can barely walk.
Your last dream fades.
Please don’t leave,
she says,
please.