facing the weight of the wind
old birds hang in the air
pages of a tired book
knowing of things off paper
words mostly seen from above
scratched deftly in the wash sands
the beaches thoughtless and cold
as young birds crouch and stumble
onto a runway into a horizon
speaking out to a number of stars
were they to open their wings
time would hesitate
the pages lifted too quickly
a twist in the arms of a new galaxy
along her shoulders in both directions
different similarities similar differences
the oldest indifference of solar rain
when you find the windswept atolls
catch small birds quickly
with your left hand
and wait
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About the Creator
Timothy James Lane
Sea Ghost
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