Bare Fly My Bye

Scantly clad cloud filled eyes, watching subtle day dreams fly by, crow call quiet sigh escapes pursed lips, watching with cocked head, wonders the mans outstretched arms, and gleefully thinks, “only I can fly”.

Arrogance born on wings of black, eyes reflect the shiny things in a fleeting moment.

His arms waving wildly, mind a blur, streaming tears pull sobs of the momentary confusion of the now of it all.

Knees bent, legs tensed, head bowed, now’s fleeing passenger notices crows awkward stance, the following glance that portrays the question, “when your gone, can I have your shoe laces?”.

Laughing to himself, legs relaxing in the sudden moment of easy reality, stoops to untie his laces, feeling his brown patent leather shoes loosen, welcoming the feeling of blood rushing back into his feet, thoughts of freedom flirt with this easy moment of his.

Black pant cuffs clash with those same brown shoes, faded and worn. Calling impatiently his new found winged friend hops on one foot, elegantly flapping about, regarding the situation first with one apposed eye, and then the other.

Feet flexing against loosed laces, toes tightening nearly to the point of cramping, he pauses, removes a lace and ponders the use the waiting messenger might have for such a thing.