where birds go

("one way i could never touch you" erin jane nelson)

this time i was younger, maybe 9. i was wearing hand-me-down shirts from my brother, and running through the forest's ground cover of dead leaves. i kept climbing trees, hopping rocks across the creek, yelling and laughing at the top of my lungs. my friend was there, though i dont know him in real life, and we found a picture of us that was absolutely amazing: it was taken from below, and we were in a tree. but the branches of the tree jetted out perfectly parallel to the ground, and very close to one another (much like a raft made of logs, though with spaces between the logs) and we were lying across them and looking down into the camera. the tree had hundreds of leaves, we were surrounded by green. but you could just make out our tiny smiling faces, and our toes dangling down. then the dream became lucid; i was so excited to have found this masterful gem, and became so eager to show my friends and family in real life that i actually woke up.