through the small patch of trees to the right, so close, you reach out your
hand, as if you could touch it. We walk along the moonshine, and we put
our hands through it, and for a
moment, sheer joy prevails.
We dream, we talk to each
other, face to face. Everything
is so possible, and you could
almost fly. Bright patches, like
the edge where the day ends
and dreams begin, are lost in
the inky curtain of heaven. The
peace there draws a tear, and
soon your tired eyes are
rubbed awake, by the sun
coming up over the horizon.
Ruth Fabiano, gr. 9
Artwork by Rosalie Rodriguez, gr. 12