Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

6.23

I slip the bird out of his hood and release him. He rubs his wings against the air, getting a feel for the friction of the thing. He ripped the air down past him and fired into the air.

I cried.

2 comments:

  1. I love that-- especially the way you treat air as a tangible substance.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I did say "air" three times, though. So, I'm really peeved at myself for not noticing that for such a long time.

    ReplyDelete