Bird of prey
flying free
upon morning crimson sky
watching the horizon
talons coiled to strike
Another bird approaches
from out of nowhere
shredding flesh and feather
crashing to earth
Broken and crushed
trying to fly
unable to see
Fly again
once more fantastic
upon newborn wings
rising from destruction
ageless and new
About the Creator
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The Light Turns
It's Tuesday 7:13 a.m. A cold and clear November morning awaits Ray on his morning commute. Ray rubs his hands together in the front seat of his Subaru. He turns the air temperature up, but keeps the air on low until the air warms up. He looks at the backup camera screen and reverses the Subaru out of his driveway onto Trimble Road.
By John R. Godwin3 days ago in Fiction
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