Monday, March 29, 2010

Inertia.

the current yawned
and pushed her sighs
over empty and barren wastelands

soft iridescent wings
were caught, held and elevated
with migrant simplicity

projecting all directions
no purpose and no question
of unmapped intentions

high above ground
over infertile precipices
they drifted inside grace

the current stretched
and blinked her eyes
at their vanishing blue escape


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