Daniel Sokoloff is a poet from Philadelphia. He has been previously published with The Basil O’Flahertry and Anti-Heroin Chic, and is currently working on his first chap book, “Dream of the Ash”. When not writing poetry or walking his lizard, he enjoys stargazing or speeding down I-95.
Wings
by Daniel Sokoloff
He hung for a long time,
eyes downcast, face limp,
toes dangling, mouth open,
head slumped, neck broken;
in the fading light he seemed
a broken marionette
dangling from a single string.
He didn’t resist the earth anymore,
defiant legs pointed straight down,
finished propping his bulk up.
I felt small in that fragile moment,
wings battling the air vehemently.
I fluttered around the rope,
brushing against it,
wishing I could be anchored the way he was.
His struggle was over, his pain past,
and I tried vainly to cling to his hair,
blowing softly in the whistling wind.
I didn’t know his name,
but though I envied him,
I could not tarry long.
The wind bore me away, my
wings too powerful for me to ignore.
I whistled through the trees,
then fluttered over them,
until the bridge
and its ugly prize
were but a distant speck
I would soon forget.
More of Daniel Sokoloff can be found on his website, Lokepoet.Weebly.com
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