SydJackson

Golden lines flash across a dreaming,

sun speckled face. A child presses

his nose against the vibrating glass

of the moving train. The harassing

authority figure sternly reprimands

the illustrious child. Useless words

upon occupied ears, bouncing off

the swelling imagination. Tethered

to his unmoving chair, the little boy

scans the black and white images of

the patterned seats. Yet this chained

silence does not stop the child’s

wandering glassy eye. A bright

and shiny idea catches the child’s

traveling mind…

a leaf waves, beckoning attention.

A stain of color on a bland,

tie-dyed horizon. He flies.