In my dreams I can fly
Above trees, or
Below powerlines.
In my dreams nobody cares
That I soar
Above the madding crowd.
Down here amongst it
Things are different
People care how high you fly.
Shudder the tall poppy,
Watch your back
The high flyer.
I wonder if we all flew
High or low
Would the walker be envied?
Nothing to fall from.
No need to be guarded.
Casually moving forward.
I will fly in my dreams.
In the privacy of my mind.
And judge nobody.
Poetry is my aeroplane 