Grave Flight
A Sprouting of Wings.
Grave Flight
A Sprouting of Wings
My shadow darkens your tombstone
as I soar overhead, unbound.
On the currents of the wind, I fly -
my stagnant freedom found.
***
With a caw, I sing my piece
carried through the air,
making new leaves rustle
with sunshine’s precious care.
***
Your death is now my lifeblood;
buried grievances renewed.
A sleeping purpose found me,
in a voice, potential grew.
***
With strength, my wings are guided
by the promise of the day.
A resurrection is uncovered,
a sunrise shows the way.
Thank you for reading! Inspiration comes from the most unexpected places sometimes.
About the Creator
KJ Aartila
A writer of words in northern WI with a small family and a large menagerie.
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More stories from KJ Aartila and writers in Poets and other communities.
Just Sixty Seconds
Oliver sat at a cold, grey steel-covered table. He knew he was next. The longer he sat here, the more confident he knew he wouldn’t make it. His hands were tied to the chair he was sitting on, pushed up against the steel table. A small camera in the corner of the ceiling with a tiny red flashing light was the only thing he was focused on. He felt sick to the stomach. He knew he didn’t have long.
By Joshua Maggs7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Beautiful. I love the imagery and movement in this piece. ❤️