As I sway gracefully in the cool, gentle breeze,
minding my own business,
I am spotted,
standing out like a fluffy, white cloud,
in a sky of green.

I'm no miracle worker,
so why am I always picked,
excuse the pun?

Whether I like it or not,
I am plucked up,
whisked away from my utopia
of vibrant greens
and deep browns.

A few seconds pass,
filled with contemplation,
and desire.
A deep breath,
sharp exhalation,
and I am suddenly flying everywhere,
drifting back to my home below,
scattering your wish
in a million different places.

But, in making your wish on me,
you grant mine:
and the ability to fly away,
if only for a moment.

So at least one of us is happy.
I sincerely hope
that by granting my wish,
your wishes,
and hopes,
and dreams
that fulfilled my desires
are fulfilled as well.

--Clarissa Lippert (10th grade)