The Art of Flight

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The Art of Flight

What wings accumulate is not air
but space, an exemplar

of restraint defied. I listen
and hear feathers

ruffling in the shadows,
a vibration that swells

until it becomes flight or
regret, the retrieval of our

bodies from this dream of ascent.
The art of flight is one of

disturbance, of angles and lift
and touching what can’t be seen.

What we hold carries no meaning.
The beauty lies in the gathering.

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72 thoughts on “The Art of Flight

  1. … until it becomes flight or regret.
    I would love to have known the Wright brothers and say, “Hey. Orville, and you too Wilbur. How about writing a poem for me about all that work you are doing down Kitty Hawk way?”
    Enjoyed it!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What we hold carries no meaning.
    The beauty lies in the gathering.
    Wow-sometimes you read something that is so timely, so personally relevant… How deeply your words resonate. It is a pleasure to read your poetry. Thank you.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Thank you for liking “Happy April Fool’s Day.” Fantastic poem! 🙂 For me, this poem is a wonderful metaphor for the creation of art, which is the process of taking our experiences and knowledge and transforming it into something larger and more profound than ourselves. We may not always succeed in this lofty task, but when we do the results can be very uplifting.

    Liked by 1 person

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