Hopefully, very soon we will have the pleasure of meeting you again. Your mission is the lordship of the clouds, not accumulating dust in the rusty hangar…
Thank You!
“No feathers here.”
Silence,
feeling shared between all the birds.
No feathers here.
Only shiny metal skin,
in the color of the tusk,
reflecting foreign rays of cosmic dusk.
They sit together,
under one metal roof,
yet feeling lonely,
unused to the surrounding quiet.
The nostalgia of the noise,
you’d think birds crazy,
given a soothing break,
from the daily chaos.
Still sitting there,
waiting for someone to hold the bridle,
explore around skies,
above the water waves,
mountain peaks,
and pointy forest tips.
Catching frosted wing.
Tweet
Please let me know what you think of the poem on Twitter @FischerVladimir
