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Four times a day,
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get the words out.
Write in any genre in
300 words or less.
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Write. Now.
they can just float, glide
around on warm drafts,
build up their potential energy to a fine, precise
just - tuck their wings in, and
hurtle down, hurtle, (more)
"What are you doing, you don't belong here, this here is my corner" a wrinkled vulture of a woman snapped at me. As the crowd passed by us in the street they paid no mind- we were nothing but piles of empty bags and sagging skin.
birds of prey fly in
balance on mother earth, while
mankind tips the scales.
A few years ago, I found a dead hawk in my backyard. I took a feather and brought it to the university to have it reduced to bones. In a week it was done, and I had the skeleton.
Its wing bones and legs were broken, snapped in half(more)