poetry by j matthew waters

everything’s all right

lost in sight
this idea of flight
wings freshly pressed
hanging in walk-in closet

a voice inside
recalling the ride
as if only yesterday
the universe became free

oh that song
it’s been so long
snapping your fingers
whistling with perfect pitch

eyes intertwined
repaired over time
memories wide open
these unburdening wings

september two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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