Leaves quake as wings rush.
Geese lift. Golden coins lightly
rest on farewell trail.
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More stories from Leslie Staven and writers in Poets and other communities.
The First Wingbeat
The moment before flight is always quieter than anyone expects. It doesn’t arrive with revelation or thunder or some cinematic surge of certainty. It comes as a tremor—small, internal, almost private. A shift in the body before the mind has language for it. A recognition that something in you has already decided, long before you admit it out loud. The first wingbeat is not motion. It is permission.
By Elisa Wontorcik6 days ago in Poets
Center Stage with Gina C.
*** I'm keen to republish the interviews I did for my series with Vocal creators. It's been a few years and I thought it might be nice to revisit these wonderful conversations. I'll be releasing them one at a time for a few weeks/months.
By Heather Hubler4 days ago in Interview
Comments (1)
Oh wow, that was so beautiful. Loved your Haiku!