Bird of passage

Go sparingly with words.

No voice. Just glide.

The love – under the wings.

 

Will let you be, for a while still.

Will only try to keep from taxiing toward some new plan

and halting still blitzed by the awareness of

there being nowhere to taxi to.

 

But you may linger on.

 

If out of sight.

Under the wings.

 

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