there is a detached wing past the asparagus, at the turn in our field near the meeting of a creek and the potomac river-
it has been in roughly the same place for weeks maybe, but each time i pass it (mornings running by with ume) it has moved.
usually the move is a subtle one; the kind you blame your imagination for conjuring.
sometimes it has flipped completely over, but by the time it gets flipped back you'll blame your brain again.
i want to do something with this wing but haven't even touched it for not having decided with certainty what would suit it best. i like the idea of holding it up invisibly and out of place in the sky as if it could go on by itself to it's southern vacation.
i don't know what happened. i don't suppose it matters.
it is what happens next that is now important.
it has been in roughly the same place for weeks maybe, but each time i pass it (mornings running by with ume) it has moved.
usually the move is a subtle one; the kind you blame your imagination for conjuring.
sometimes it has flipped completely over, but by the time it gets flipped back you'll blame your brain again.
i want to do something with this wing but haven't even touched it for not having decided with certainty what would suit it best. i like the idea of holding it up invisibly and out of place in the sky as if it could go on by itself to it's southern vacation.
i don't know what happened. i don't suppose it matters.
it is what happens next that is now important.
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