by Robert Lloyd Jaffe
Soaring on a summer breeze
I felt so young and strong.
With keen eyes and stiffened wings
I imagined the flight as long.
The cloud that looked so fair
I never thought would conspire
with men's dark desire
and create such thunder there.
So it is with weather and age;
difficult to predict, but always sure
It is the vistas laid behind that
cloud of which I am not aware.
So I sit now, contentedly on the branch,
and dream of things not seen -
It's so delicious to rest my arms
as my head flies through air so clean.
I used to fly among the birds
but now the sky is filled with words.
Last updated May 06, 2016