Little wings

I feel myself floating above,
Despite feeling the solid ground below.
I hear my heart flutter fast,
Like when I felt when I flew 
on the yellow airplane,
Into the clouds and away from noise,
where the field was open and white,
and dream like.
I am not an airplane anymore.

But, I find my heart fluttering again,
maybe it has taken off with the wind,
while my feet is still heavy-laden and rooted.
Hearts don’t leave you,
They pull and pull and pull some more.
Until you drop your boots and fly along
or they break their wings and fall among
the other wingless hearts who
were pulled by boots as heavy as yours.