Fugacity 05
Online Poetry Anthology

Wings

The bird rises in flight,

its wings cut the sky,

climbing steeply

over white capped

blue-green waves

until it soars, a speck

of black far above

the white flecked sea,

shifting and sifting

its feathers to ride

the currents of the air

until it stoops, plunges,

dives down to cleave

the wet, shining swell

of the ocean below,

flinging up a spray

of sparkling drops

that glitter in the sun,

light edged and alive,

a shining afternote

to the miracle of flight.

They stand,

close to each other,

bespelled, enchanted

by the dazzle of wings

over light and water,

until he turns, touches

her hand, and then

her lips with his lips,

looks into her eyes

and sighs, a long, slow

breath that is like the

murmur of a wave

on its last, long curve

into the shore, finally

reaching the land

long sought, touching

terra firma he murmurs,

"Your eyes are full of wings",

and she, turning to him

again, smiles and replies,

"Your eyes are full of the sky."