Ron Koppelberger
A Legend By Wing
The derelict myth justified the impressions left by flourishing lemon sun glow, in wrangled perfection and the blue skies of endless summer. The dream was within the winged union of secret honors and agreements of surviving wombs. The serenity of its environment was in covenant with the dream and the dream was divine. He exhaled and whispered, “Illusion or madness, possible or defended by god?” The myth moved in slow supple waves of lengthened berth and essential utterance, “The renown of accommodated seals crown the acceptance of redemption and common voyage unto the summons of an immigrant sunrise.”
The man endeavored to hold the westward horizon as the legend flew in lazy circles about his sky and off toward unseen coasts and inland seas, away yet pointing to the harvest of saffron and wheat in the distant fray.
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