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Wings
As the beating of the wings of birds
my mother’s fluttering eyelashes
seen with my infant eyes
as I studied the face of the first person I ever loved.
As the beating of the wings of birds
my friends’ fluttering hands
emphatic with anger, comic with hilarity, revelatory with gossip
as I listened to both their wisdom and their folly.
As the beating of the wings of birds
the fluttering in my chest
the first time I saw him, the first time he touched me
in all times thereafter.
As the beating of the wings of birds
the soft fluttering of ancient wings
the wings of those who come to comfort me, sit at my bedside
sharing with me my final hours.
First appeared in Scarlet Leaf Review
A Proper Life
If I live my life as I should,
when I get to the end of that road,
to the final steps of that long path,
and I can go no further
because there is only solid stone before me,
I will put my back against that rock
and sit and look at what I’ve left behind
and I shall not weep.
First appeared in Labyrinthine Passages
Linda Imbler is the author of the published poetry collection “Big Questions, Little Sleep.” She is a Kansas-based Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her work has appeared in numerous national and international journals. Linda’s creative process and a current, complete listing of sites which have or will publish her work can be found at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com.
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