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Flying without full wings.

6.10.18 – Baring

The murder was gathering about our heads with an audible frenzy. You had kept us from walking deeper into a trap, one that might have ended with blood and bound bones, and now we stood at the edge of the circle waiting for the watchers to descend beyond their calls. I didn’t know the first thing about warning signs but you made sure we didn’t continue on into a trespass without surreptitious movement and whispered instructions. The sound was building overhead like the trees too had joined in the maniacal laughter and we huddled closer to their bodies for protection by association.

It was the tails that told us to go no further. We saw a child hopping and didn’t consider the impression its feet could make upon the concrete and really it wasn’t up to that youngling to break the ground. He danced for the backs about the sky and kept their attention tight to his circumstance. There were neighbors minding this business since predators seemed to feel fine walking smug in the streets and branching out to bad behavior in the shade of parks such as this.

We heard they fall this time of year, dark rain from the boughs, standing now upon the ground and letting anger build overhead. We carried worry in, maybe for ourselves, maybe for them, but it didn’t dissipate as we stood quiet and watched the scene only escalate. I was told that this game would play on for ten days and that nature would be its own guard. We wanted to be rescuers and save the vulnerable, but in reality we were the threats; just another pair of unknowns that might have malice about their crowns. No wonder those blackened birds swirled cautiously above.

-VGB-