Flittering under the pretty moon,
Wings beating so quickly,
That moving is not a choice.
I feel the moon shining down on my wings,
And I slow them down just a bit,
While the grass seems to stroke my beak,
And the darkness ends.
A contest entry
- summer is for the sky by fishbone.
533 points, ended July 7, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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This is pretty, but too brief, I think. You should continue the image a bit more or add more depth to this piece.
Thanks for your entry. -
Wow this is good i like it... you described it so well
Very well written i lovers it keep up the good work..
xxx--<3--
Shelly
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