Winged Lion
I feel like the yellow leaves
the wind is wildly tossing like footballs.
We used to be in it for the moment—
not a prize. Palpable passion suppressed history.
Last night the sky resembled a parting sea—
a big white angel transformed into waves
that crashed into black heavens.
I heeded the cue, hopped on my magic carpet
and embarked on a mission to unexplored space,
unstoppable despite out-of-date skills, an analog heart, a novel plague.