Wings
If I had wings to fly,
I'd breathe in deep
and spread them wide
as I leap from the cliff
into the wind
where the seagulls glide.
Crossing this wide sea
I glide above cruel waves
that reach up
to drown my flight
in their cold and deep
blue-green graves.
And as your day grows slowly light
I'd arrive on worn-out wings
to hold you in your waking dreams
and feel you
soft and gentle
warm in my embrace at last.
Copyright © Ron VanHooser | Year Posted 2025
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