Always flying high and
breathing the air that
cries a whistle of wind at night.
Down in the fields,
excited screams from children who aren't
frowning because their
grandmothers like to play
hide and seek with them.
I fly above the
joking boys and girls in the fields.
Kangaroos could never jump
like the children I see.
Masterful leaps, yet they
never reveal their secrets.
Of course, I saw beauty,
pheasants flew past me,
quails howled. But
right as the
sun was setting,
the most beautiful,
undying beauty appeared before me.
Verifying my life, proving its
wonders were alive. Like a
xylophone of color, rather than one of sound.
Yet the color won't last forever.
Zero smiles are shared when the sunset is gone.
