Monday, May 20, 2013

Dragon Wings by Whitney Osburn

Dragon Wings by Whitney Osburn

The mornings are boring,
Gray and black,
Like a dark pile of ash,
He’s happy to breathe fine,
A gust of big smoke inhaled.
A big breathe, he spreads his wings wide.
He breathes and the fire comes out.

Laying on the floor,
He puffs smoke out his nostrils,
It is the dragon way,
Wishing he could fly more,
He has green wings,
And is different from the others,
By the hurt wing, with a chunk taken out.

Dragon wings he calls them,
He tries to life his wings,
He wears a cloud of concern,
Weeping when the mornings come,
To the air he returns,
Plunging face first,
Breathing fire and smoke,
Flapping his wings,
He takes a leap of faith.
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Waterwings


By Cathy Song b. 1955 Cathy Song
The mornings are his,
blue and white
like the tablecloth at breakfast.
He’s happy in the house,
a sweep of the spoon
brings the birds under his chair.
He sings and the dishes disappear.

Or holding a crayon like a candle,
he draws a circle.
It is his hundredth dragonfly.
Calling for more paper,
this one is red-winged
and like the others,
he wills it to fly, simply
by the unformed curve of his signature.

Waterwings he calls them,
the floats I strap to his arms.
I wear an apron of concern,
sweep the morning of birds.
To the water he returns,
plunging where it’s cold,
moving and squealing into sunlight.
The water from here seems flecked with gold.

I watch the circles
his small body makes
fan and ripple,
disperse like an echo
into the sum of water, light and air.
His imprint on the water
has but a brief lifespan,
the flicker of a dragonfly’s delicate wing.

This is sadness, I tell myself,
the morning he chooses to leave his wings behind,
because he will not remember
that he and beauty were aligned,
skimming across the water, nearly airborne,
on his first solo flight.
I’ll write “how he could not
contain his delight.”
At the other end,
in another time frame,
he waits for me—
having already outdistanced this body,
the one that slipped from me like a fish,
floating, free of itself.

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