High of life

A short poem.

In the green, we are free,
highest as we can be,
in a haunted house,
where only lived a mouse.

In a night of dreams,
Where everything can be what it seems,
Mysteries unseen, friends and kin.
And we can be what we have always been.

Flying high, living fast,
Tripping at last, having a blast,
We carry on, life is short,
And from here we go forth.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading my work.
All reviews are appreciated.

Reviews

[Amy R]

Nice write, your poem evokes a sense of nostalgia as it reflects on identity and the importance of familial and friendly connections..
~Amy

[The_Ancient_Rock]

Yes. I agree.
Thank you so much for your review.
Your words are deeply appreciated, dear Amy.
I am happy you took the time to read my work. It really was a thing of the moment.

[Amy R]

You're welcome, not a problem, I read when I can. 😊