The Fall

I fall against a wall of air,
Wall insubstantial, parting as I move
My shadow follows, silent, riding waves
Tides of sky or ocean, all the same
Sun, but rose ember orb
Drifting on warmed desert breeze
Washing patterns, fluid, painted feathers
Soothing, calmness, caress, peace
I glide among the few highest clouds
Over and under the great mystery

My shadow begins to grow……

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre January 19th, 2008

One thought on “The Fall

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