I will ride the elevator
later
when my feet touch solid ground,
I will travel to the outer stars to find that
man exists beyond the frozen fringe
or mists
of Jupiter and Mars,
Yes,
later will be fine.

Time to pack a book
and build a dream,
chapter twenty-two,
asleep beside a placid stream.

A canteen filled with yesterday,
jettisoned along the way
and a valise to release the stress.

Mother says,
do not be late but
I can't wait
to elevate
so
off I go.

Later,
never knows when it will come or if the sun will shine in some mean or meaner time, meanwhile with a smile that lights up steam,
I dream.