Stuff I wrote that I actually enjoy and don't give me stress

Mother's Dream

        My mother's hair is filled with curls of ash streaked snow, sweet candy cane spirals spilling across her shoulders. They curl around her ears, brushing her forehead like a soft kiss. Her curious, bright eyes stand independent of her face, untouched by age, time and the wrinkles that frame them. Gentle creases in her skin map the topography of her life. They weave a tale of smiles, frowns, moments of frustration. Her mouth curves upwards as she gazes into the brilliant blue sky, partially hidden by the branches of the maple tree behind us.

         "Ever since I was a little girl, I've had this yearning, this recurring dream," she says as she sinks back into her wheelchair, twisted legs beneath her. "I want to fly, to be free of land."

         "Essentially, to become a bird," I drawl, wondering why we're having this conversation again for the third time this week. She keeps looking at the birds as well, wishing so desperately to be carried by the wind instead of anchored to the ground.

         She smiles at me and starts to roll herself away in a meandering path, leaving me no choice but to follow her. We travel along a cement paved trail, a row of sun sleepy trees on the right, and an expanse of freshly mowed grass on the left.

         "Do you know why I like this park so much, Lizzie?" she asks, in her gentle way. When I shake my head, she stops and gestures at the hill in front of us. "When I still had my legs, I would ride my bike here all the time. I remember that while climbing up was barely possible, riding down was the closest I had come to flying."
         The look in her eye is so vulnerable, so desperately hopeful, that it breaks my heart to say no. "You know it's too dangerous, Mother," taking the handles of her wheelchair and control of her only form of travel, pushing her back down the path.
         The last time she tried to fly, almost fifty years ago now, she twisted her legs beyond repair, permanently binding her to the ground.