The lemon lady fingers of the sun
Lay ribbons of pale mercy on the cold.
Silk birds like kites lift dreams as high as smoke.
The music of the moment lives on hope.

Gray roofs are steeping thickly to the west.
Snow flakes like ghosts fall softly through the mind.
I feel the shelter of your shadow hand
Stroking my trembling wings for evening flight.

Previously published: Paris/Atlantic, France

Sandra Fowler

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/evening-flight/