Jason Howard
By
Nikki Anne Schmutz
The Weight of Flying
Birds scatter from the branches,
brisk wind makes them uneasy –
rain drops cause them to find shelter.
I don’t hide.
Unlike the birds, I grasp the branch –
climb higher, until the limbs
barely hold my weight.
Here, in the lofty nest of needles –
I imagine I can fly.
The rain becomes the tears
of humanity,
and my heart, the weight
of the world.
Truly a weighty piece. Bravo!