flying into frame off center

.

a tunnel of words
brambled tight and bunched pretty
blocking the straight line
shortest path

and isn’t that always the way

flight holding up
a mirror
of freedom

while the simple branch

extended as an offering
of comfort

goes unnoticed

these wings
always itching to soar

defying the gravity
of cracked calloused
talon

weaving labyrinth and lace
into a ripe ruffled tapestry
of circuitous
reflection

.

.

.

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