Snowbird
I
would walk aimlessly
just
to be in the wind
but I
wanted direction.
The
“flap flap” of my flip flops
against
my heals inched me closer to the library
where
I’ve judged every book
by
its cover at least thrice
and I
noticed the sky.
I
soaked in surroundings,
the
layers of business,
homes,
hills, fire formations
and
blue mountains,
the
touch-me-not desert,
bold
and beautiful,
but
nothing so beautiful
as
the air.
I swam
through the
freshness
like the cut
of a
fighter jet through the blue.
Nothing
but blue.
Not a
cloud. No precipitous precipitation.
I breathed
and the sky was weightless upon my lungs.
The
weightless heavens that fell
upon
my September morning,
drenched
it in dehumidified splendor.
The
crispness was captivating.
The breeze
blew in believing.
My flag
flew in faith,
and I
remembered why I live in Nevada.
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