Tag Archive: flight


Butterfly 2.0

if you and i were hummingbirds
you would never alight at the feeder
but instead would draw nectar pulsing midair wildly
frenetic and i would simply perch, sip, occasionally peek
over our shoulders

to the jet stream, my dear?

© Chagall ∞

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To Fall Airily Upward

I leap for the net with big holes
hoping I’ll miss and fall through

to be a mastermind I dress the part,
strip down

the cement is just for weight dear
look who’s back in town!

once I fell
and bounced
only to fall again

and one time
I soared

rooflines ascending
the light on the bridge

a star and
a sky carpet
race

only
to lose
to time

somewhere
it’s rain

rivulets
lap over dappled gray rock
pondering whether
to ripple

this life is
a crazy puddle

I say thank you
in primary colors

each rung
I reach to

awash
eternal

somewhere
it’s storm

© Chagall ∞

Teaching Humans To Fly

Relax deeply, secure in the updraft, ride the scree,
low in the pocket, let flexible tension arc about you,
buoyancy – wind rushing cilia,
spread under light and sky
in full spanned glory,
a journey upward
to thinner
rarefied
air.

© Chagall ∞

To Soar

As a child I could project myself to the tops of tall trees
I would search out the highest point of the canopy and imagine
The world from that vantage

My wings would ache
To fly down to me
Looking up

Instead I’d turn
My sideways glance
To the sky

As a bird I would project myself to the lowest clouds
I would search out the thinnest white line and imagine
The heavens from that vantage

My wings still ache
From ascension

© Chagall ∞

En Passant

There in the tinted glass
Circling red-shoulder hawks
On sky preserved deep blue
Even in reflection

© Chagall ∞

Veering Southeasterly

Through the south-facing window I see the eagle fly
till the edge of the pane, so I run to the east
to espy her in contiguous flight but she is nowhere to be seen.
I return to find that the window is gone as well.

© Chagall 2017

Ponder Some

Like Annie Dillard
I’ve learned to be
still enough so even
birds ignore me, they
settle so close oblivious
to my presence, the more
of this the better I think
– the great divide gone just like that.

Though
there certainly is a food chain.

© Chagall 2016

That You Be

On the roof
the city below
is quiet

Gray
the order of
the day

People still use clotheslines here
cursive swoops of nylon rope
wet haberdashery semaphore

Empty rivers on either side
the low-end of tugboat blasts
is lost here

Each one grabs
an arm
a leg
apiece

Spreads me like a kite
brings me to the edge
begins a count of three

A sail on the river begs a breeze
no longer grasps hold
kites below become smaller

. . . I be gone

It is certainly quieter here
save for the rush of wind

Chagall 2016

Flat Out

My heart, adept at somersaults,
sticks the perfect landing.

The pain in my knees though tells me that
it’s not that long till fall.

So tape me up
to brace me tight
in time for another go.

Madly to the springboard
without stopping to plant
I soar of my own desire.

I emulate feathers floating
till ground.

To lie there
spying clouds move
up and down as well as left and right.

In motion emotionally always
forever truly yours.

Chagall 2016

Visual Mashup

I write at a desk
with a window behind me

When my screen goes dark
it reflects the sky
that spans there
over my shoulder

Where a red-tailed hawk
on air currents glides
circling my login prompt

Chagall 2016

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