yellowpigs.net

Wings

Sara Smollett

Summer 1997

I'm under your wing
but your wings are broken
and mine aren't flying
I say
and you laugh
I can fly
I get high
I'll be by

words
meaningless words
inventing
creating what we say
painting a verbal picture
we rely on words too much
and not enough on sound
inflection
reflection
infection
introspection

looking back
looking inward
difficult to examine myself
tried
and got carried away
reflection reverses
put on a new slant
new view now of
how things were
and I no longer know which is more accurate
more right

but I
can see the future
and it is all clear
the future is uncertainty
roads not taken
cloudy crystal ball
footfalls