State of Mind- Lost Girl

she tries to write
poems and she tries
to pay attention
but her thoughts
are dandelion scattered
among phrases that remind her
of the outside

phrases that take wing
and elude
her grandest reach
songs of self
that beach themselves
then swim back out to sea

where furiously they tumble
with starfish and urchins
whose random rhythms tickle
and tingle like toes dug in
to scorching desert sands
then curl like notes, or shed

from paper birches
that take to wind
then float away in
super slow motion
and as I watch I find myself

wishing

that my thoughts were
free as hers, and my head
as clear as hers
but my poems are flimsy kites
anchored in the sky
no wind, no waves
nor motion to propel them

the bright side being
an unobstructed view
of forever