Wander On Brave Aviator

The carrion bird flies silent            

In the cloying, smoke filled air,      

Slicing through solumn clouds          

With outstretched, black gold wings,    

Gliding on the foggy ruins              

Of once pure air,                      

Sole permittance                      

Of her mournful flight.              

Beneath, the distant, chalk-dust ground        

lies sleepy in its gloomy haze                

hidden, wordless memories                   

Of times below these skies.               

Razor sharp, the twisted spires,           

Gargolyled, pierce the firm,              

denying always,                           

rest on softest ground.                 

To forever travel onwards           

Breaking choking mist,             

In search of golden sunlight,             

The radiant spears delight.         

tiresome, endless darkness,          

Freedom, damning taunt,          

Wander on brave aviator,

'Til wandering finds an end.

Reviews

[Eilis]

Makes me think of the high, lone vultures I sometimes see above the trees. I love that you’ve dedicated a poem to the carrion bird because it’s one of those creatures that is quite admirable but often despised. Misunderstood.

I really enjoyed the mix of language here as it weaves between the sublime and the threatening (not sure that’s exactly the word I’m looking for but it’s the one that came to me). That flitting between worlds makes the poem feel like a mini-epic to me.

Lovely reading.

[bob26]

Thank you. and thank you for your welcome also.