Where We Land

//Where We Land

Where We Land

A bird wing on the sidewalk,

flight cut down,

torn from its body.

Now, only a symbol of falling.


Is this where we land,

on cold cement,

a touch of blood

with all the passersby looking down

and avoiding us.


Thinking of wings

and how good it is

to be human sometimes?

2018-01-06T23:33:19+00:00 Poetry|

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