Grounded

How far will the birds fly today?

How high will they ascend?

From a distance

how small will they appear?

Standing on the ground

can you imagine

such creatures taking flight?

From behind a window

watching the grey cold

covering the sky

you wonder

of your mother's health

as she rests in a hospital room.

December morning
Where are you now my dearest
Flock of birds take flight

If only I could fly
There would be no tree
No branch 
That would be unexplored

Not Every Lost City 

is Waiting to be Found

cutting sky 

above me 

the plane soars 

the pale belly

of a flying frog