Wednesday, May 2, 2018

poem of the day May 2


Watching pelicans in formation
playing the game of who 
is going to flap first
Up and up they go in the current
effortlessly gliding in a sunrise wind
using perfection 
wings almost touching
I feel like I am one of them soaring
toward  some drifting understanding
lost in their bliss until finally
one bird in flaps their wings

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