Daydream

Daydream

She wants to leave this place,
these three and a half white walls
that push into her space and steal her air.

Her daydream is somewhere outside the city
where she can run through an ocean of wildflowers
and fall to the ground when her breath is gone.

Alone, she can throw off her clothes to feel the sun
caress skin lightly glossed in morning dew
and brush each blade of grass that scratches her.

She can gaze into a cloudless sky,
one that is so completely clear
she can float in the liquid blueness.

And, in the stillness, she can listen to the quiet music
that starts with the wind humming
and ends with the rustling of leaves.

If she manages to make her daydream come true,
she can forget the harsh neon lights that hang overhead
and the annoying flickering of her computer screen.

She wants to leave this place,
this prison of an office,
and go tumbling, headlong, into nature.