Last Flight

Birds have that gift of flight
Their lives so simple seeming
Eating and sleeping
Busy nest builders
True, they have predators
From which we couldn’t fly as easily
Or we’d be odds on safe as most birds
Who never have to fear being cowards
Standing helpless in their confrontation
How they can swoop from cliff edges so effortlessly
Landing below as light as feathers unruffled
Or climb miles in the sky and wing away carefree
Far from shore soaring over darkest ocean depths
Then calmly return to solid earth
And this soft body rippling in a light breeze
So many generations fledged and journeys flown
So quietly arriving at her end
A life of grace and aged beauty stilled