Pinion

A few dark wings tossed
into suspension. We see
a shadowy flight frozen
to a meaning smoothed
over grey. The flesh
of clouds framed to a sky
hardly captured. It is
the practice of art to confine
you. Birds never enter
nor exit the stage of what
is found even as something
crosses your eye and begins


Written for Thursday Photo Prompt: Soar #writephoto.

2 thoughts on “Pinion

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