A look in the mirror tells me
my wings look a bit
dishevelled, worn by wear
but I can’t help myself,
I so love to fly.

I throw myself into the wind
with arms widespread,
flying in the wild, crazy patterns
I never dare to follow
when I’m on the ground.

I will not avert my face
but allow the airstream’s
full frontal pressure to hit me
until I‘m barely able to breathe.

 

© november child
photo credit: Pam Link via Flickr
Pattern
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