Monday, 21 August 2017

Outcome Immaterial

Looking up I saw a fluttering 
Billowed in a windy gust
It wouldn’t look me in the eye
Even though I knew it must

Straining hard to maintain height
With each circle dip and swerve
A show of mental nonchalance
Excessive stress in every curve

Line of sight gave indication
Of measured distance in between
A heavy weighted cobalt sky
Pressing down on emerald green

Suspended in a colour scheme
Amid a battle of the shades
In a force field thrust of gravity
Snubbing triumph’s march parades

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