The Problem with Flying

[happyfish]

Don't ask me what's wrong -
I want to write a poem,
But I don't know the words
So maybe I'll just hum along instead.

The problem with flying is gravity.
The problem with hope is I haven't any -
Not for what I long for most.
Laughter conversations,
fingertip dances
and the way summer
changes your scent on lazy afternoons.

Don't look at me-
you can't - won't -
I'm not the right person, I know.
I see the way she catches your glances,
And holds your smiles with the ease of long practice.
And I -
I, the imposter,
the watcher, tom-fool at the gate
with his heart in his hands.
I was a dancer once. No more.
My feet trip over familiar words
how's it going? and
that's too bad...

Reaching forward but drawing back.
Ask - I'd give you everything.

If I could...