Wednesday, May 6, 2009

I am flight.

One feather blossomed from beneath weathered skin

A postcard from far away.

Light flew from the pores of pebbles
Strewn across the ground.

Everything rumbled. The ground. The sky. The in-between places.

Hearts sizzled as they turned.
They were golden brown.

Somewhere piano keys were tinkling a melody.
A metronome beat. Time kept.

Seagulls opened their mouths over the surface
To swallow chaos whole. They never went hungry.

One feather blossomed through weathered skin.
One after another, after another.

Far away came home that day.


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