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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