- Feb 13, 2020
- 1 min read

Flying, Falling

By: Anna Dunsizer

I find myself gliding over an ochre sky

With the wind rushing past me, flying, falling.

With the salty smell of the sea, I ask myself why

I feel like I’m flying, falling.

Constantly searching, a wandering firefly

I know that I’m flying, falling

At four a.m. with nobody passing me by

As I’m flying, falling

And nobody asking me why

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