Child Flight

unbound, an etheree poem

I recall being small, but not so small. Mind was not confined to adult truisms. Gravity had naught on me. My mortal mind was flying free; wind rushed by, whistling to my child soul, as long as no adult inflicted truth.

Gods, what harm we do to our children’s minds seeking only sweet freedom of flight. How dare we seek to clip those wings which bring them joy, us no harm! Once we too flew bright skies. We do forget youth’s exuberance, Earth’s somber weight on us.

Wry Welwood 7th of July, 2021

In response to Sky Collection guest prompt by Melissa Coffey, Meet the Etheree. Melissa was of especial help to this poet navigating the form for the first time.