Abandoning. Left in a shallow exultation.
Lousy and rotten, a fruit not wanted.
A semblance to a prodigal, allowed to
enlarge the gap that has an origin.
No repentance but regrets have not overcome
the common feathers in the wayward mind.
As they fly through the smokes of the
aching village, they landed on a dark and
wintry chill of the unknown.