The Girl who Flies
Robin Macklepenny
I remembered a secret, the other day...
something I've told to no one.
It has to do with the way I hold my breath--
(if I do it right, I don't even have to breathe, I just live) --
Then I step forward, but my foot never touches the ground...
It just sort of glides, and I glide with it.
I try not to do it much, in case anyone notices.
I don't want them to be angry with me.
I don't want them to know I can fly,
because they can't, and people destroy what they can't take.
And I need to fly, so desperately, above treetops and houses,
and cares and worries and...
...so I never really flew much, anymore.
Someone might notice.
And now that I'm wiser, I let them see me,
as I slide, gliding forward until I soar,
and they say, "Look there at that girl, she's flying!"
and some say, "Let's shoot her down from the sky, it's not fair she can fly."
But I trust, with all the love in my heart,
that there are more people who say,
"No, let her be. Let her soar. Let her live, because this is who she was born to be..."
The girl who flies.