June 22, 2016

wings and memories

fleeting as mist on the wing
so many
so deep and barely lost

. . . . . . . .

floating the night breeze
jars clutched on eager hands
weaving the trees and wild grasses

and that...
the warm scent of hay
on a lazy day in spring
the lingering hint of hoove and fur
an echo of itself

when a...
wave chased giggling feet
shells and stars
tumbling down tan limbs
to plop and sink

moss clung to knobby leaves
pungent decay a perfect cosmos
for a roll
and minute probe and poke

frozen flakes
were caught, outstretched
digits farflung
and bunched to crunch and sling

. . . . . . . .

were those shadows
running long side
these images in our dreams
co-pilots of glee and whim
pleasure and satisfaction met

of those journeys
interrupted by tenets
of sporadic maturity
levied on boisterous events

and why?
...just why
have we lost
the innocence
that kept us safe
from life's assignments

meted out by well meaning community
far far adrift
from those wings and memories...lost