The Fall Poem by Margaret Ann Newcomb
The Fall
I lost him in the sun.
And here he is, come again to laugh with me.
'Look at this' he screetches
pushing up and up.
Now the langurous pause,
as time stops
then dropping, dropping,
so dangerously, so determinedly
slicing through the wind.
To laugh at life itself, in fun.
I wonder does the wind rumble...
Does the ocean smell the same...
as he swoops up again to laugh at life itself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 12:20:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
