Paul moves his back muscles
in a manner he thinks will grow wings.
He checks the mirror each morning.
He blows no smoke on his torso.

Paul spends an hour each day
meditating on the blue sky wanting it—
the wings. Not to emphasize his angelic nature,
but to pursue his wish to soar on thermals.

He studies the animated motions of the dinosaurs
that turned into the first birds
to get the arm movements correct to build muscle,
while he pictures his body hair evolving into feathers.

When honesty frosts the mirror, it tells him
his wings will be as flightless as the emu’s.

copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

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