pedestal

sometimes I wonder
what might have been...
if only
my dreams and intentions
had not been
askew

like a leaf fluttering
in the late summer breeze
the idea alone
was pristine

something you make so grand
within the furrows of your mind
can never
truly
blossom to what you
wish it were

however brief that wind was,
colors flitted in the air
and smiles passed
then turned away
gently

I can almost say
I'm glad it was that way