Join You

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Well — hello, fellow struggler
May I say: You wear your patchy-feathers proud
No mind to molting season

I’m frozen in a place of shame, and don’t often speak of my own lack out loud
A desperate whisper on a moon-filled night
This, all I tend to venture

But you! Here in the early morn,’ foraging and in flight!
Makes me think, with eyes anew, that I ought, too,
Fight the good fight

The Plan

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I suppose that you are made of stealth pilot stuff
You see me as commanding from strong eagle wing
I’ll prove how your heart is stronger for its freefall
You affirm my pain-filled flight has not stolen hope

Uneven

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Everything. The shiny,
The hot, the wishing for warmth
And that pilot’s still circling

Not caring for landing field light 
Or the heat of home afterall 
But circling 

Higher and away
As if captaining a star flight
Upon which I can only draft