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Friday, September 14, 2007

Paper Wings.




Paper Wings



Scabby knees and a frilly dress, I stood smiling at the moon,
Certain the sparrow's secret would be mine all too soon.


On my back- a pair of paper wings, tied to me with string,
Skin tingling at hopes the night would surely bring,


A runway of roughly laid concrete lay beneath my toes.
I wiped the sweat from my hands onto my beaded, smudged, worn clothes.


Old Man! Proud moon! You won't escape me this time!
Crouched, then sprung, I began my celestial climb.


I ran until my heart was fit to burst in my chest,
I paused to check on my progress and snatch a little rest.


The woman I would become spoke in a voice so very clear:
I'm sorry, little girl, you'll never fly, my dear.


I smiled at the voice and agreed It's true, I'll never fly,
But gosh isn't it such great fun, if only just to try?



2 comments:

ra said...

icarus minus the wax, eh?

is this yours?

TeacherLady said...

Only I never took off, but I was content in my pursuit!
I know it was very adolescent and girly of me to post poetry, but I felt like it.