Somewhere in Florida,

a strawberry finds itself growing

on a tree, beside an apple

long past ripe.

Plump and red. Swollen like a cheek.

It knows it has no business being there,

but it admits—

it is nice, for once, to be tall.

Nice, for once, to feel the sky

closer than the ground.

And somewhere in California,

Half Moon Bay,

a girl stands on a rooftop

and thinks the same.

Sick of the ocean,

of all the sand.

It is nice, for once,

to be far from land.

And in the sky,

there are so many places to go.

Much like the girl

and the strawberry,

a robot, trapped in a story,

climbs to the top of the page,

as far from words as it can get,

and feels closer to peace

than ever before.

And the girl,

with that big brain of hers,

imagines a world

where no one is confined to the ground.

Where dinosaurs are still alive—

but kind.

Where robots aren’t evil,

and everyone coexists,

eating strawberries

that don’t belong on trees

but grow there anyway.