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Feathers & Wings

 Sharing for The Sunday Muse #223


But the deconstruction comes at the chorus

It's not the same thing: wings aren't flight
The sky isn't the same day and night
I'll turn my back on angel's secrets
Because my wings were never white.

The only time the window rolls down
Your palm finally catches the slipstream
There's a lift that pushes back, shoves;
Flight doesn't float, it's always finding 
The hardest push.

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. I love "Because my wings were never white". And "Flight doesnt float." Very cool poem.

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  2. Some deep and lovely thoughts in these amazing lines Chrissa and that last line is one of the truest ones I have ever read! Beautiful writing!

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  3. You have captured a bit of darkness and light - the owl is a harbinger of night but, it is wise as it sees through different eyes.

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  4. That ending, and your poem's message, knocked me over. I think, then, that it must be true.

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  5. 'Flight doesn't float, it's always finding
    The hardest push.' - fabulous!

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  6. Your poetry pushes boundaries ... profound ... forcing a long read, a deep dive.

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  7. I love the whole poem. Your ending speaks right to me. Great Writing as always!!

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  8. Physics and poetry are a rather unholy combination, yet you make it work--this is striking, Chrissa, full of truth that is shown not stated, and images that fly on their own wings. Really excellent poem.

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  9. Love this, Chrissa! No white wings for you.

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