she's still waiting in line

when we were young
you climbed to the top
of the tallest tree
in the yard and
told the neighborhood
you wanted to fly
like navy-blue crows.

i promised to remember
for as long as i could.

we don't remember
the wind that lifted my skirt
and the way you
looked at me though
thick frames.

grandma always said
there was no room
for imagination.