She walks across the lawn
Into the dusk
Out of the dawn
Holds tight feathers of the past
Lets them go
Sails behind the mast
What is this paragon of perfection?
She asks staring into the sun
In it's entirety
She sees a reflection
and thinks
"This is starting to feel fun"
Looking away, she squints to re-adjust
In this new vision she begins to trust
Within this complexity
She finds herself enamored
Putting a face to the name
It feels like home, she finally won.
At last, she thinks of broken wings
And for the last time,
She remembers how it stings.
Only after she has let it all go
She finds the face to this name
and decides to let the wind blow
