On Wings

I sometimes envision the spots just inside my shoulderblades toward my spine as the place where wings used to grow. The tightness there has nothing to do with stress or other real physical causes. No, it is just my back missing my wings.

These days, I make do with airplanes. The wings don't fit as well as mine did, and the airport adds that extra level of annoyance when trying to take to the air. Occasionally, I do dream of flight, though I don't seem to have wings in my dreams. I just glide through the air.

Tonight, I must pack my bags for another of those real world flights that will take me to Miami for a funeral. My family is gathering from all corners of the country. Off to pack my bags, I go. Here for you is another flake of snow.