Guest guest Posted September 4, 2007 Report Share Posted September 4, 2007 The Perchless Bird (written 9/1/07) Flying onward, mile after mile after mile. Tired, so tired. Flapping wings have long become pain. Immense torment to stay aloft. No wind to glide on. Looking far into the horizon; no tree. No brances. No refuge. To touch the ground is touching death- Hungry animals everywhere, waiting. Hoping. Her little children in the nest crying loudly, "Food mommy,food". Flying onward, mile aftermile, after mile. Tired,so tired... Randy Need a vacation? Get great deals to amazing places on Travel. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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