This town is not mine. It is too full of people cleaning their cars. Husbands with sponges and a shine on their mind. Wives feet sticking out of back doors as they Hoover up conjugal crumbs. Too many people carry shopping bags bulging with Saturday routine. Too many people are holding hands, clinging together for safety, like children crossing a road.
As I speed away from today I see that I am feather racing. A small whiteness is dragged along in my slipstream - pulled on by the weight, speed and intensity of me. Or is it the other way round? Does it draw me on, forever tied by forgotten ancestry. Shared avian pasts - forgotten by everyone but the leaves.
5 comments:
'Too many people carry shopping bags bulging with Saturday routine.'
I always love your urban observations - so accurate!
And of course, I too wonder about 'shared avian pasts'...
top post as ever!
stunning: feather racing - i witnessed this today also, and was inspired to slip it into words also. perhaps there are always more symmetries than we realise...
Lovely. Good one. It takes a leaf of faith, or just a slight observation sometimes.
*leap of faith, sorry. ;-)
'Leaf of faith' is great FJL, I think I prefer it to what you intended to say!
Some of my most original and insightful words have been slips of the tongue or pen.
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