Cauliflower Trees

The green-black outline of

cauliflower trees against the

ash-white grey of swab sky

lifts me and I am flying.

My feet, numb to terra firma,

my limbs, as light as the

mist that swims in the gentle

coolness of this dawn of

possibility,

and I am alive.

I resist returning to my task,

but I do so knowing that this exists,

and I soar above.