migration

Children run with their scaly chick feet
across the grass of spring.
laughter ensues the idea of
living in the clouds.
my cloud will be a panda,
and yours some desert heartthrob.
tiny sailboats cross oceans of paper.
sometimes pink.
sometimes orange.
sometimes green.
the places we have been are fantastic,
though we have only traveled once.
spring begins the real start to the new year.
and this year we prepare for migration.