The owl came for flying lessons.
She followed, remembering snow,
purging minutes from herself until
gone and she shone, tuned to the ice-
bright noon, transparent with time,
carrying only what would not be
spoken into the coming
night.
Hoo
There now?
Nice Post ❤️💯👋🇪🇦
I grow together
purging the weight of regret and self-doubt that keeps us from flying ….
“ice-bright noon” Brilliant!
Bartholomew, thank you for noticing this! It was a happy discovery moment for me : )