Awing

I followed a raindrop

From a thousand feet high

hurtling toward the

solid gray pavement

with a velocity

and speed

that frightened me.

Closer,

closer,

the pavement

drew closer;

I could see the small shapes

in small rocks,

pebbles,

barely even

rocks.

I could see

the glittering mica,

glistening with the shattering raindrop wetness.

My raindrop shattered, too,

and with its demise,

I opened my wings

like parachutes,

fwooosh,

and felt even more shattering raindrops of my feathers, dancing lightly

on the fibres of my wings,

and I reached for the ground,

alighting softly upon the pavement,

my hair drenched,

my wings spread,

and my heart racing.

I opened my eyes

to the darkness,

listening to the rainfall,

and my heart

longed

for wings.