Brat Farrar (bratfarrar) wrote,
Brat Farrar
bratfarrar

poem: [theory of clouds]

[theory of clouds]
I am training myself to identify species solely by the sound of their wings. I sit blindfolded and one by one Ilya sets them flying. The papery whispers are remarkably easy to hear, but it is by the weight of their bodies--cloud hands--that I am learning to know them, when they land on me, as they are more and more apt to do.

Lisa Olstein

*

for some reason this always makes me think of john sheppard and atlantis
Tags: poetry
Subscribe

  • 2020 stats

    You can get card with your statistics here ! Down from last year, but still respectable. Also, this post itself is another…

  • snippet: Aftermath

    The thing about angel-healing is that sometimes the mind and body remember that the injury should be there. Dean’s never seemed quite as…

  • fic fragment: thus endeth the fluff

    They sleep in the tent head-to-toe, like when they bed down in the car; at some point while Sam was hiking, Dean turned his pile of tangled bedding…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments