A Boy's Flying Wish

Mother pulled open the tattered cloth curtains
and lifted the protesting old sill.
Warm summer air chased round swirling dust speckles,
ushered in the aroma of fresh-cut wood from the mill.
"We'll borrow some warmth from the sun" said she,
"for when the day is done".
The frail, small boy just nodded and grinned,
thankful that a smile had come.
He lay there..chilled..neath a mountain of quilts,
made by his mother's meticulous hands...
to wrap around her precious boy,
who'd never live past childhood or become a young man.
The balsa-wood airplanes he'd crafted so well,
and carefully hung from the ceiling...
made miniscule circles of flight in the air,
in a room they would soon be leaving.
As the summer day went on and the shadows grew long,
he did not fear the approaching night.
He closed his weary eyes,and on his very first try
went soaring away on an oft imagined flight.