Propeller

Propeller
by me(whatever)
to astronauts

On the top of the world,
in the middle of the sky.
Among the clouds and airplanes,
there's a small girl.

All day she watches,
from her small square of floating island.
The colors of dawn, day, and dusk.

And her room is filled
with flying machines.

The company is a large dog,
no one else.
She opens her window,
and sings

So she won't forget her voice. 

Drawing millions of designs,
the pictures of wings suspend her.
Sometimes, when a large gust comes,
they're blown away.

But she won't forget,
her single fallen dream.

From the tall grass,
on her back, petting the dog.
she views the fish who swim in the moon,
ever drifting closer to space.

The shooting stars head to earth,
if she could only reach out and catch one.
But they pay no attention to her wish,
living the last of their lives.

The days that won't change forever,
she loves and hates them.
Afraid to ever leave,
this world is her everything.

But she closes her eyes,
the flapping of a paper shower
whispering and shouting
"it will be all right."