Today's poem is by Nance Van Winckel
In an early sky, the molecules of my wings
were reshaping themselvesby sheer will, it seemed
into arms. And I was sad, at first, to be dispossessed
of the old updraft, the wheel-and-hold.
But alright, goodbye.
I'd begun to see that the arms were spiraling, moving
ever more wildly, and Oh, I thought,
they're full of stars. Then I sawno,
the arms were made of stars.
Copyright © 2007 Nance Van Winckel All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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