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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