I've been thinking.

A lot, actually, about this dream in particular.

I was in the middle of a field; expansive, without an end; yellow, everywhere.

I felt older than the world, yet breathing for the first time. 

My body was small; a child's. 

My hands held up daffodils to the skies. I kissed the wilted ones; blowing pussywillows, waltzing with a cd the wind.

I looked up. They had all turned into birds, flying away, leaving me behind.