Thursday, July 22, 2010



The wings we make
make use of this basic rule:
Flight depends on tension.

To harness force from air
we need a thing for wind
to rush against. Flight

is filtered. We fashion
a kite, a sail, a parachute
to be freed from the body.

We keep hoping our skin
will turn aerodynamic,
will lift us up as would wires.

It won't, so we charge into
one another, cold and warm
fronts meeting, making storms.


  1. Wow. So beautiful, though I haven't yet decided what it means.

  2. I like the idea of being freed from the body...hopping over from LaBeletteRouge, and if LBR recommends anyone, well, one has to listen because she is so right!

    Lovely poem!


  3. love this one! xo ave

  4. So, it's tension that makes us fly! It says a lot about relationships, and the necessity of volatile actions and reactions, as well as the slow, kind friction of peace.

  5. Hi, Hannah. It's so nice to see you again, and I love this poem. I also thought about relationships when I read it. As always, I love your line breaths and choice of words. We "charge into one another" is excellent.


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