Flying things
A source of fear
they run away,
children scared
of me, they say.
But I am nice
and I am kind,
or is it just
that they are blind?
They don't know
they don't see
the beauty that's
inside of me.
Deep in the forest
all alone,
I sit and stay
on this cold stone.
I'll spread my wings
and fly away,
beauty or beast
for another day.
Hannah Donohue 2020
© 2020 Kerdon
