Wings
by Pie Corbett
If I had wings
I would touch the fingertips of clouds
and glide on the wind’s breath.
If I had wings
I would taste a chunk of the sun
as hot as peppered curry.
If I had wings
I would listen to the clouds of sheep bleat
that graze on the blue.
If I had wings
I would breathe deep and sniff
the scent of raindrops.
If I had wings
I would gaze at the people
who cling to the earth.
If I had wings
I would dream of
swimming the deserts
and walking the seas.
Photo by Richard Bryant
