Soaring

I tell my friends, I let you go,
but we both know I had no choice.

And now I see you soaring, silhouetted,
barely recognizable even with binoculars.
The solid earth must seem so pedestrian,
so predictable, to someone who makes love
with the wind. You could fail and fall
and still have time to fix your wings
before brushing the ground.

I’m always looking up, not for the stars,
or the clouds, but to catch a glimpse.
Resigned to the fact that I was a minor
character, an obstacle to overcome,
in someone else’s story.


(for this week’s Living Poetry Monday Prompt.)

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
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13 Responses to Soaring

  1. Your lyrics convey the experience of seeing someone we love leave, knowing that their departure was inevitable. It speaks of mourning not only for the loss of the other, but also for the discovery of our own reduced role in the shared history.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Perhaps the flightee did not realize how pleasurable were the bonds of the flighted….

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Cassa Bassa's avatar Cassa Bassa says:

    A sad prose, love the metaphor.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is a lovely story, Bart, and one I can relate to. That photo, also, is stunning.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Susi Bocks's avatar Susi Bocks says:

    So sad, but so positive!

    Liked by 2 people

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