i read about deaths everyday
people succumbing to
the urge of the plunge.
there must be something intensely attractive
about gravity.
and about a clean sweep to oblivion.
perhaps not so clean.
but i often wonder
why
no one talks about
deaths of people
who can not take the plunge.
of selfish cowards
dying in their cocoons
everyday.
wings
She made sure she had enough; polished her wings one last time and looked longingly at her nest. Days were only going to get colder and there was a very long way ahead. She was sad and thought ‘why does this have to happen every year?’
The others were already hovering above.
