RÊVERIE

The wind blows my hair in every direction. There are goosebumps on my arms. I am free here, alone and unafraid, walking through the tall grass. The hem of my dress gets caught on twigs and flower stems; there will be foxtails to pick out after. I lift my face towards the sun as it peeks out from behind the clouds. I hesitate to open my eyes. Can I stay here for just one more moment? Will the wind blow me through the parallels of time, leaving me with no escape? The wind stirs, then settles, and I am here, and I am free.