Bird Blues

 
Let me be that bird
Soaring in the blue.
Riding the backdrafts,
Instead of suffocating.

Free in mind,
As silken feathers
Upturned, rising to heights
Where the static fades

The Blue consumes.
Freedom is on the wing,
Far from home discomforts.
It’s hunting season.

I want to take flight
Over the horizon,
Till I’m nothing more;
A feather dancing on the breeze.