Night Flight
by Carol Adams
Beneath the dark backdrop of sky,
a night wind sweeps
from door to door
seeming to whisper
its own urgency,
as she flees
to her open car,
from memory strewn walls
confining the man
and his self-loathing,
terror whistling at her heels,
the child clutched
in the carriage
of her arms
Sliding into the horizon
smooth as a sigh,
a deliverance from dread,
transcending limits to sadness,
she sees shadows of wings
outlined against tomorrow's sun.
The child, very still,
has almost discovered
what it is to be invisible
eyes, so like his fathers
looking towards a separate life,
where he may glide
inches off the ground
Carol
A. Adams grew up in South-East England. She studied for a year at l'Alliance
Francaise in Paris and later emigrated to Canada. She worked at the Scarborough
Public Library Board for a number of years. A recent mature graduate of
York University, Carol majored in English and Creative Writing and now
lives in North Toronto with her husband, a native Nova Scotian, and their
two sons.
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