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Waxwing

A Poem

By Toria RaineyPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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On the final day of the migration,

Mere miles before the flock reached

That place the sun loved to kiss, one

Fell from the sky back down towards

The earth, a blur of warm brown and

Pale gray, fading quickly into the

Darkest of shadows cast by the

Tallest of trees in the widest of forests.

Some of those trees bent down,

To mock or to spy, while the others

Stood tall and shook their leaves.

“Tsk, what a shame—a bright one

Who forgot how to fly.”

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About the Creator

Toria Rainey

Ladybug in a people costume. | 22. BOS. QUEER. FEMINIST.

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