Barefoot
May 9 · 1 min read
Why don't we
dip our ankles in the stream that flows
beside the lush green field,
below an azure sky,
where we are never old
Why don't we
tread our bare feet ever so lightly
and follow deep into the forest
on a forgotten trail
where dandelions grow by the thousands,
and we are never old
Why don't we
walk hand in hand, and share our stories
and our dreams and our wishes and
let this whisper of a breeze carry it,
to an evergreen audience,
and we never get old.
