Saturday's sky a dessert for the eye,
Creamy clouds dolloped liberally,
fluffy and plump
floating silently
through rich azure
sprinkled
with hovering vs
of birds soaring high.  
To have wings is to be blessed,
why can't I?
Questions of a child
still rumble in my aging bones.
Though I'm kind of glad
to still have
echos of innocents
and hidden hope
that one day I may.