A Soaring Bird
He swam his pure mode onto the freeway,
At the crash of midnight, under a dull ray,
It's as if it's a rolling trip of a sound move,
He chased a vast owl overhead and flew away.
The monster sinks into the usual groove,
Also, to ask him for the land sternly proves,
Consequently, the vehicle started to shake,
His anguish freed the load from reprove.
A bird in the sky, tickling for air's sake,
His eyes boldly rushed toward the lake,
It takes a solid step on a sharp path,
A twig from a maple tree no leaf shake.
Explore the world from a tree's bypath,
Connect the fiery red and orange lath,
It sinks evenly into the dreadful abyss,
Bird quill pens are plagued by raw wrath.
The bird looks at the sprinting diss,
Instead of roving, the beast is remiss,
The auld damp air drove the birds away,
Birds look for limbs that rest on bliss.
2ND Place Contest Winner
Written: June 30, 2022
Flight Three Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
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