Lying discarded and torn
upon an autumn path
a pair of paper wings I found
one a little damp
along the trailing edge
the other sun bleached and rippled
from some long ago summer day

So of course I strapped them on
looked around
and, well, flapped
hesitantly at first, but after feeling
that alarming little
     tug
of lift
I really went at it
beating the air about me
breathing hard
and then I was airborne
floating
lurching
tilting and leaning
climbing skyward

The little birds
and insects of the green and flying
sort
fell silent about me, watching
while upward I pulled
smiling