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Jun 2016
I flutter feebly, with damaged wing,
determined to avoid a reckoning
with Nature, who’s given me many a gift,
but not the one I seek to lift
me near the cloud-strewn heights above,
where you soar and spin to my delight,
my love.
No matter the pain, I will sustain
my effort; I still float above the ground,
though at a far closer distance
from where you are found.
No celestial heights will I obtain.
But it’s enough to still the pain,
to follow your movement, arc and dive,
less gracefully, but still I thrive
in feeling the currents of air and mist
and the force of gravity that I resist.
The whistling wind is our haven and home;
away from earthly troubles, we roam.
As long as I can see you there--
flying, and tempting me to dare
to mimic your movement and your power--
I can put off the reckoning hour.
another PF re-post...one of my personal faves.
Scarlet McCall
Written by
Scarlet McCall  San Rafael
(San Rafael)   
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