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Sunday, December 20, 2020

cardinal sin.

High above 
a treetop base
soars a group of rogues
A squadron pressing 
giving chase
Hoards of lethal droves


Aerial mischief 

can’t replace 

what lies beneath our toes

We make our way 

through aerospace

Searching for a home


A pivot point

a swivel 

a universal force

Maybe it’s more civil 

to hunt ourselves for sport


We claim to be noncommittal 

still never changing course

a Renaissance of drivel

and meaningless discourse 


Ask yourself a question

you’ll offer a response 

That’s what makes us special 

how needs become wants


Despite this 

our connections with

surroundings are staunch 

Long-established 

imperfections

tethering our launch


Turned my blunted

beak to the left

lost myself in thought

Colossal clumps 

of feathers swept 

past me like a dart


The wings they came from 

so adept

I know them like my heart 

It seems they’re mine 

from when we left

We’ve ended at our start