Flight - A Poem by Freddy Bosco
Feathers are the teeth which birds
Use to bite portions of the sky.
Every day I watch them, streamlined
Given to long lingering flights.
My feet are heavy and never would they
Grasp a branch. I am sentenced to ground
To watch as birds glide, calculating
Moving through the blue, drifting.
I'd give so much to have the chance.
My heart does my flying, leaping
Up at any odd moment
When the conversation gets swift
Leaning into a meaning I'd never heard.
My mind is a little bird:
Pecking at kernels of truth, feasting
Digesting, and I give in. Flight
Is an act of moving
From one place to another. Fast
As my mind is , I trust my heart only
To deliver me where I seek to land.