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Posts Tagged ‘contrails’

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They accelerate

to new heights

I can’t comprehend,

fly where I’ve never been

leaving behind

dangling apron strings

unhuggable contrails

in the sky.

.

They return

weeks later

circling

my head

landing

on new ground

taller now

with hugs

stronger than mine.

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©  1986, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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Written in 1986 when my sons

(teenagers at the time) flew to Oklahoma

to work on my uncle’s farm.

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IMG_7964

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Feathered paint on blue

white contrails and faerie wings

Gaia strokes the sky.

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© 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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(photo Aug. 2014)

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(just a scribble….)

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Like a contrail from a jet

the past changes shape

shifting in the winds

of time and distance.

It expands and softens,

sometimes twisting

into grotesque serpents.

So, which is more real to us,

the sharp spear of the present

or the undulating spread

of memory?

Or can we ride them both?

.

© 2014  Betty Hayes Albright

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