Wednesday, June 5, 2013

How I Got My Wings

public sculpture, buenos aires

How I Got My Wings
by Lisa Vihos

They began                                                   
as an annoying itch                          
between my shoulder blades                                   
running along the scapula                           
like poison ivy                                               
turned pins and needles                               
turned porcupine quills                                
instigating an irritation                    
so profound I had to drink                           
myself to sleep each night;                           
a half bottle of cabernet                               
per side. I was beside myself                        
with grief over a wide array                        
of losses over a long trail                              
of years and tears.                                        
Tears, I had shed                               
by the bucket.                                                           

But one day
the itch was gone.
I woke up with a feather
tickling my nose, realizing
my own wings caressed
my face like the hands
of a phantom lover
who wanted me blessed,
wanted to tease me awake
and surprise me
with a gift. The gift
to fly up out of the pain
at the drop of a hat
or the flap of a wing
like going airborne
in a dream.

~ first published in Seems