He came for her.
He returned and they were a perfect pair
of the birds she watched all those years
as if she knew that her tired arms might take their wings
and her last breath, expelled from life
might join the wind and give rise to her first flight
reunited with the soul that returned for her
to once again soar behind her beautiful soul.
The beat of their wings greatened the air
until it gathered the oleander’s pink and fragrance
to wash through me and surround me
with their osprey’s laughter at freedom and joy, joy, joy.
27 April 2008
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