when all things become all black
and underneath it all bleeds all of the time;
when never again the ink of feathers
can quench the paper lovers’ thirst –
the wings on the wind will soar once more.
there you have it my darling; our winter tears
as destiny’s mockery.
and underneath the fog
away roll the departures.
.
– Sophie Chouinard, 4 April 2015
NaPoWriMo 2015 (1 poem per day) 4/30
Theme: Departure
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