Flight--By Greg Gregory--United States

Flight

The soft sandstones

of these deserts,

their soft names whispered - 

Mojave, Sonora -

delicate bird bones left there,

bones delicate as a song or

soft desert names, become

hollow, like flutes, like bones

filled with air, containing sky.

They gradually erode, go back 

into soft dust

softly, softly on the earth

until the desert

breathes flight into them

once again, in evening, in twilight

they disappear into air, into a poem

in a soft southern wind.

Greg Gregory has been published in the US, Canada, and the UK in publications including California Quarterly, The Aurorean, and Avocet.  Born in Washington, DC, Greg lived 14 years in the San Francisco Bay area.  Greg currently lives and writes in Sacramento, California with his wife, Rita.