Sky Magic

by Jim Farfaglia

 

It’s still a miracle

to look up

and see a flock of birds

dancing their traveling dance:

thirty or more darting and swooping,

as if they were one –

as if we were all one.

 

It’s still a miracle

to look up

and feel the cold January air

swooping in with its surprise:

white flakes flocking in my hair,

making me one snowy sight –

making snowmen of us all.

 

It’s still a miracle

to look up

and find the stars dancing in place,

beacons traveling their many miles:

darts of flickering brilliance,

each a single point of light –

but shining for us all.

 

 

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