We were those children, sun-kissed and half-naked,
under the cloudless sky. The birds beckoned us
west so that we could see like they see–
more and farther.
We were abandoned to the singing wind.
The sand stung our skin like bees, but
we decided not to care because the sky
was ours completely, empty and full– a dome,
starred or blue.
Let the gray rain fall while we sleep.
— Linda Lobmeyer