Flightless
Through the open panes I ponder
a nightingale lost in flight
singing to me a soulful song
Her beak barely quivers but her sound
it resonates deep
waiting for me to gain my wings
But I am flightless
even my thoughts are capped
in a bottled-up breeze
I long to feel again
freedom amongst a pristine sky
Come into my window
and help me float away
if only through waning eyes
Be the pull to my push
and in such a time
in such a florid time
these wings will once more flap
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2016
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