One story said we've discovered how bees fly.
Another said that ancient humans were hunted
by birds. It's no wonder our angels have wings.
How long have we feared the talons sweeping
down under silent wings from out of the sky?
How long have we wondered ourselves mad
at the tiny mysteries, darting around on fast
invisible wings, that wouldn't give up their secrets?
I'm back to writing a poem every day, whether they stink or not.
Friday, January 13, 2006
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