May 1986

Could it be that

the sky where once I soared

once more gives its call

sending once again to flight

this soul resigned to plod

Could it be that

life again would come

to hold the magic once it did

when so long ago I  sang

Could it be that

the earth be not my fate

my dragging footsteps cease

cease to hold me down

could the sky again be mine

Above it beckons

blue and oh so deep

high above the mire

I hear it calling

Will I go?

After NH. One month

of death at last let go.