Another crazy poem based on a weird dream I had! What's weirder is that when I was thinking about it, Grandma randomly said, "You need more of the brown ones." She doesn't talk much about colors anymore.

Man in a brown sweater
Running
Running across the airstrip
Enters the building
Oh, so fast!
Returning
Carrying a small package
Girl gazing
Through blinded windows
Watching the man
Man looks up
Sees girl
Leaps in helicopter
So gracefully
Blades whir
Lift helicopter to window
Spinning like a top
Eight, nine, ten
Man staring at
Girl staring at
Man
Oblivion