To fly on borrowed wings

Painting ©Ventus55

HAL_JOS_TERNS_SYLT

It hangs over my head, this sky,

charged with stars and rain

and presses down, bright as diamonds,

with the force of the ocean.

If I could, I would sail away

from the grey whales of clouds,

lumbering wrecks, devourers of hopes,

or fly on borrowed wings into the light.

But only in dreams, tossed between dusk and dawn,

can I find the white flicker of feathers

in the half light and the gold rippled air.

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “To fly on borrowed wings”

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