Singing

Air flows over
and runs below,
giving lift and
pushing,
pulling,
higher,
lower,
as her wings cut through and she
soars.
A drifter singing through the sky
watching carefully the treetops, so full of life,
that will someday be
gone.
Replaced by concrete and wire
and billboards asking
us
to save the forest while
they
build second homes
made of wood from trees she
once spoke with.
Still, she migrates and
adapts.
Rises over challenges.
Shoots below obstacles.
No matter what force tries to consume,
to take hold
and push and pull
her down,
her wings keep her up, and she just
keeps soaring out there,
singing
from the sky.