rarelyunusual

the flight of birds is buoyancy,
efficiency & lift,
a sensitive noise in the silence.
the language of feather & zephyr,

the rise & fall rhythms of heart
beat — efforts of tendon & bone –
an aileron angled on airborne,
lithe lines from a laureate’s pen.

the raison d’être in vessels,
a lightness of carriage & hollow,
freedom outlined by the fleece & the plume,
not merely the muscle or wing,
though it seems by design — propagation
– it’s verve in each quiver or quill.

still,
height is a vision of relative price
burning white as a fast moving star
& birds exist quickly to happen
as specialists shaped for the sky,

in lives, which collapse
to ascend & descend — a journey to ends
all the same,
but avian lungs never run out of breath,
birds breathe as they fly into wind.