By Lyra Dalton

I stand
Alone
A wind at my face
Nose
Uplifted
Toward the sky
I feel
A howl
Trembling
On the edge of my lip
The sound
Breaks free
A single note
A long
Long breath
Soaring high
I feel
Meaning
A reason for life
A sweet
Rush
Of warm air
Into
The freezing
Arctic tundra
A careful
Chord
In the deep blue sky
My shoulders
Back
Shuddering with emotion
My muscles
Tense
Straight and proud
I see
The land
The Birds
The clouds
And I open up
A wild call
A strong call
A call for freedom
A long, long call.

©2005 by Lyra Dalton

Posted in Poetry |