She decided to let go of the ground she stood on.
I’m not sure why.
I don’t believe
She knows how to fly.
I imagine she clings every day, but not today
She let go of her grasp
It was choking
Learning to fly she saw much more
Letting go of the ground she stood on, she walked into the sea without drowning
She saw the sounds that had been quiet
And felt the purple, gold, and orange erupt on her skin
Sometimes neon yellow or sailboat blue
When she touched someone, they too found their unique colors
Bright, dull, opaque, merging, soft, interwoven, blended.
At times bursting with the flight of the red hawk or brown pelican.