Taking wing.
A song that swings like a sail singing in gusty winds that portend
a windy afternoon.
The barrier right
at one edge
where birds escape as through through a quickly closing stoney slab.
An endless stream of birds and then a single lonely
last.
Either lost or defiant.
A flag flapping that’s a picture, unchanged, across centuries. Might as well be pirates or admirals under that flag. But there’s a contemporary bird instead; definitely not endangered. The opposite, in fact.
Spreading
inevitably. Maybe carrying some final blow. Quietly. Secretly. Simply.
Taken wing.