Abbie Johnson Taylor’s most recent poem to appear here was Bill’s Hands (February 2013).
Escape
By Abbie Johnson Taylor
I used to dream of flying
up, up, up, away
to a land where problems didn’t exist
where all lived in peace and harmony.
Hands raised skyward,
I jumped, flapped legs and arms,
propelled myself higher, higher, higher,
far from bullies, bad teachers,
impossible bosses, noisy neighbors,
trials of a family caregiver.
Surrounded by blue and white,
I looked down on the world, content.
Now, with childhood and husband gone,
my job behind me,
I look at the sky,
no longer wish to go there.
I’ve found my happy place.
Good work. I read one good poem a day and this was it. Thanks.
How strange that we can be happy when those we loved and cared for are no longer our responsibility, but I understand completely.It is a kind of relief that we are now free to just do what we want when we want with no feelings of remorse.