Drops of Color/ Sets of Wings

Drops of Color

Sets of Wings

They wait.

A soft breeze
rises through the marsh
—the wings ‘jostle.’

A storm making its way
—the wings begin to dance.
    THIS, the moments they live for.

Gliding, whirling faster and faster
—a song breaks into the clamor
     of the monstrous roar
—they meet.

Wind and Wings
—creating a sound.

The Pilgrim
steadied in the turbulence
—cannot help but remain calm

while being deluged
and lulled
by the flapping of wind
and the wings
of the windmill.

 

 

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