bird arrows

the sun burned down the snow,
turning it into smoke that curled up
and spoke with the clouds, until the light
broke it up into thin reeds of white
stretching like rubber bands,
lining the weak blue face of the sky
i put gloves on my hands –
night time rises and winter lowers her head
i touched the mountain peaks with the
edges of my eyes, admiring the arms of
birds in flight,
hugging the air, letting it go –
embracing the wind, setting it free –
their voices whistled, like arrows
peeling through the air,
directly at me

a poem about the aesthetics of nature during the winter
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: aesthetic 

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