Two by two,
we all flew through
a flurry of trees,
lifted by a slight breeze.
We passed overhead
of the serpentine tread.
It was enveloped in dust,
not I, no, not from us.
One of us strayed
like a feather duly frayed,
to inspect and acquire
knowledge from flying higher.
We were uncultured swine,
undetected, no pride.
Only that one
who got too close to the sun,
met their demise,
while we averted our eyes.
The freedom of the sands,
grains slipping through our hands,
and cries of pure bliss,
worth the struggle and struggle's kiss.
We were not birds,
just empty words.
We were uncultured swine,
at least, for that time.
YOU ARE READING
Abstracted
PoetryAbstracted is a collection of poems that I have written since 2014. Thank you for giving it a try, since I know that poems are sometimes hard to read. I hope you like them!
