Tanner Brockwell

the pulsations of beating wings
by tanner brockwell

the pulsations of beating wings
lifted not for flight
lifted only for light
gleaning off downy soft
born beneath cold stars
dawn is cold
the edge of drifts malleable
in the caress of a vagrant wind
unfounded even ungrounded
a roving over plain and sky
a roving for winds never die
but twist and so they dash and go
a turn a wisp a blow
then they are away
gone but for the trace
of the drifting snow

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