The Sound of Wings

stephmel at Etsy

it beat at my back at night
the wings of it
that I gave flight
it used to swallow all light
when in the corner I dropped the leash.
Caged. Dropped. Disected. Given
to a something else
as vague as air.
To let it go means breath
and
the grief for what I was                                                                                                               dissipates to the beating of wings–
a faint song–in the night
too broken, too translucent
to damage my dreams.

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