Opus

Roots and Wings

I saw a super blue moon last night. At least,

that’s what my mom called it. Astronomy and

 

aerospace and astrology and advanced calculus

never held my attention, even as my mom

 

sketched space shuttles with chalk on the concrete

next to me and told me the names of airplanes as

 

they roared over our heads. That one’s a Piper.

See how the wings are below the cockpit?

 

A friend recently asked me if I’d rather have

roots or wings. It was not dishonest to say roots,

 

even though my mom sewed me an astronaut

costume when I was ten and I still catch myself

 

imagining how it might feel to lift off towards

the moon and never quite touch down again.

 

by: Piper Daleiden

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