Almost half way and I’m flagging a bit. I’ll just about get this posted before midnight U.K time. It’s my fourteenth poem in fourteen days. It’s meant to be quirky but I will need to tidy it up later. The prompt for Writers Island, if you haven’t guessed, is ‘Flight’.
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hoverimg in limbo above the Alps
bones of former lives rattle below
coral takes flight from tropical beaches
a dusty chase to an African airport
light wafts from a cave in the valley of no wind
black holes appear in the bowels of the sea