Night-Flying
I drift aloft with gossamer wings,
slowly slanting toward the moon,
beaming with its nimbus glow.
Like me, it seems to shift positions,
darting between forms and shadows,
darkened slopes and rounded hills.
Shimmering streams grow mute below us,
sending clear, sweet twinkles skyward—
forever gracing souls in flight.
Copyright © Carol Mays | Year Posted 2017
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