What? No, I didn't make the cut.
Guess I wasn't 'super' enough.
Why? Well, they told me because I don't have any attacks.
Which kinda pissed me off. I mean –
They're called 'Defenders' not 'Strike Force' or anything.
Wait, Ms. Raddow – what was that, young man?
What's it like to fly?
That's a good question. I mean, it no longer counts.
As a superpower, I guess. Not a special one, anyway.
The first time it happened to me, I screamed.
It's disconcerting, being airborne. I don't have wings,
Like Archangel or Hawkman. I defy gravity.
In a way, I defy the laws of physics.
But you want to know what it feels like.
It feels like a roller coaster, up and down,
As far and as fast as you want to go,
Like you can chase airplanes, go dance
In the murmuration of starlings,
Skim across the cold sharp air on Mount Everest -
Like your first kiss, when the world is yours
And anything seems possible.
But looking down from way up there, you can see
The damage, the harm, the raw tree-stripped ruin
Of forests and ocean reefs,
Mountains broken from mining,
People starving and living in squalor.
Cities and towns that lie dead or are dying,
Wars that are raging and killing more than people -
Killing hope, erasing millions of years of beauty!
And it made me want to help, to defend, to heal.
But I have no superpower that can kill.
All I can do is fly.
It's okay, young man, and Ms. Raddow.
They'll need flyers eventually,
To tell them where the bodies are.
YOU ARE READING
Little Pieces in Search of A Bigger Picture
AcakBits and Bots, odds and sods, flotsam and jetsam - one-shots, really short contest entries, lyrics for imaginary musicals, poems...random stuff that you don't trash because maybe they'll fit into something bigger one day.
