He was having another lucid dream of flying above his childhood home, following the road out of Merriwood Court toward the school bus stop. This time he was determined to turn south and follow the geese, join a skein and share the work, take his turn at the point of the vee, honk encouragement, belong to something and go somewhere. But the wind, rough, turbulent, pushed him down, and when he landed on two feet at the back of the line that was just then boarding the bus, he could feel the hard pavement jolt through his legs to his knees and hips. Last one on, like little Ping and the wise-eyed boat on the Yangtze River. Another little duckling, self-aware, sitting in the row with the annoying back-wheel hump.
- 87,931 hits
Tag Cloud of Limingaars poetica Audio Poem autumn beauty bird birds Buddhism cat clouds cold crow crows death depression desire dogs dream dreams fall fire flash fiction grief haiku haikus heart home kiss life light loneliness lost love love love poem lovers lust moon morning naked nature night nude ocean poem poema poet poetry poets Post by Voice rain Ray Sharp river sadness sex short poem short story skin sky sleep snow song sonnet spring stars star tattoos summer sun sunset tanka tattoo tattoos of stars time trees water wind winter
Copyright Notice© Ray Sharp and Bard of Liminga, 2008 to Present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without written permission of the author and web site owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ray Sharp, Bard of Liminga and raysharp.wordpress. com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.