Down From Heaven

She fell.

She fell far, down onto the earth,
a creature of mist and dreams,
angelic.

She was lost in the ruin
of a house once grand,
a house that lived when Detroit
was king.

They found her, they took her,
this creature of the Otherworld.
Into foster care she went,
into uncaring hands, cruel hands.
Into loving hands, into
homes but never home.

She forgot
she was a creature of dreams
and fell into mist.
Like a child's bubble
in the summer haze, she
shattered.

Into Space

A word I used to hear all the time--freak. As in 'you're a freak,' 'freakface,' 'creepy freak,' 'freaks like you...' It doesn't bother me, not anymore. Not since I became a bird.

Not since I learned to fly.

Crouching low, balanced, sliding downhill. Faster and faster, faster. Staying balanced, arms back. Arms like wings. Going faster, going down. Getting ready, waiting while moving; still while flying down the slope.

Then...

And then, that tiniest sliver in time, the one that says either you will fly or you will crash. The moment the inrun ends and I spring. Into the air, the sky holds me, cushions under my skies, my wings.

And I fly.

Away from gravity, away from those old hurtful words. I AM a freak. I am a bird. I am a ski jumper.

And I can fly.

Tornado

Standing naked before the storm
I could only stare at
the jumble that once been people's lives
and grin helplessly.

Death was quick.