The Glider
Date: Thursday, 15th March 2018 @ 02:49:48 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: Durango

In quickening breath

I glide inside the breeze,

Like an eagle that has left its nest

To tickle the tops of Alpine trees.

 

I navigate the northern stream

Defiant of the cliffs that drop;

I’m gliding high upon a dream

Tasseling the emerald hair of hill tops.



This poem is Copyright © Durango



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