The wind is gusting as a playful breeze
The whirling summer air is entertaining
With a performance of acrobatic ease
A stream of air is persuading and reigning
A wispy translucent shape dances as if alive
Caught in a rapture, rushing in front of cars
Barely escaping ruptures; destined to survive
Once again, lifting and gliding without scars
With a whoosh, the discarded plastic grocery bag
Is launched majestically and snagged on a branch
Suddenly the thrill seeker becomes a waving flag
Twirling and twisting, begging for another chance
1/26/08
Theresa Ann Moore
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/airborne/
