Falcon, Fly On Tristan Harman Though graced with wing and wind to fly, A falcon rested ‘neath the sky. Tattered feather, broken bone Have kept this hunter long from home. Falcon, keep your head up high And bow it not in times of strife. Falcon, though your heart sinks low, I promise you’ve not far to go. Though tonight, your wounds may ache And in the morn, you may not wake, No conclusion is foregone. Your wings will heal, and you’ll fly on.
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2020 Still Life