{"sf1_id":663829,"sf2_id":"V1YANdr1","title":"Bird's Eye View","author":"Arcane Reno","words":294,"posted_at":"2014-02-06T10:10:00.000Z","tags":["Clean","Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/663829-bird-s-eye-view","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/V1YANdr1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/13/c8/13c86b89-b33a-4d71-af7f-97c67ef389ff","description":"#3 of Poems\n\nWrote this a little while ago, then forgot to post it. I don't feel it's my strongest work, but I'll put it up for any who wish to read it regardless. ^^","content":"Bird's Eye View\n\n  \n  \n  \n\nIf the eyes are windows to the soul then mine can see for miles.\n\nThe breeze is my ally, lofting me to blue yonder upon downy wings.\n\nBelow, a patchwork of hues, minute detail revealed before my golden gaze.\n\nI offer a cry of exultation, and revel in the adrenaline rush of a high-speed dive. \u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n\nThose beneath can never know my personal joys, held secret within my breast.\n\nWhether the bracing chill of the heights, or racing raindrops to shelter.\n\nCoastal waters offer the shimmering flash of scales. Reedy grasses hide crafty prey.\n\nEither domain, mine for the taking, shared with a select few.\n\n  \n\nBird's eye view.\n\n  \n\nMy metal sides shudder and creak. Ding! Fasten seatbelts please.\n\nSuited forms recline, sipping complimentary beverages or attacking plastic keys with frantic strokes.\n\nAn infant's wail. Many don headphones to blot out the din.\n\nMighty headwinds. Delays. Anxious passengers soothed by attendants.\n\n  \n\nDo they feel safe in my keeping, guarded by my aluminum skin?\n\nLife between tarmacs is a solemn duty, bearing my precious cargo forth.\n\nA thankless chore, yet I harbour a touch of pride when they curse me.\n\nWere my body sundered, I am an offering to their survival, both passenger and crew.\n\n  \n\nBird's eye view.\n\n  \n\nWind is my master, from barest puff to fearsome gale.\n\nWhat path lies before me? Which direction to take?\n\nDappled sun through branches, sparkling across a burbling creek.\n\nFresh scent of winter, fast approaching from the North.\n\n  \n\nFlutter and spiral, my erratic path through the air.\n\nFar from the home-tree, where few siblings still cling.\n\nI drift idle, caring not for the form of my final resting place.\n\nNow is the treasure, the only gold I seek, the only gold true.\n\n  \n\nBird's eye view. \u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poems","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/649335-the-mind-spiders.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/683708-spacial-cliche.json"}}