I borrowed the wings
of a wasp passing by
to try to fly up into the sky.

I fell rather resoundingly,
to my dismay.

I borrowed the song
of a bird in a tree
to sing myself free of life’s decrees.

I failed rather deafeningly,
my tones were gray.

I borrowed the guise
of a voice in the crowd
to try too loud to become proud.

I failed rather terrifyingly,
now, come what may.

I borrowed the wings
of an angel’s light
to try to guide with true flight.

I fell rather humiliatingly,
but, that’s okay,
I’m learning along the way.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 11/2/05