High, round, safe, a place to rest. Like the nest, still warm
in my mind. I settle. Suddenly - darkness devours me.

Falling, I try to stall and fly up but my wings grow heavy
with dust of night - they cramp and panic. My claws scratch

wildly but catch on nothing. I land soft in a cloud of white.
Strike for the light but my head hits hardness. Something’s

not right, not right with the air. Tap my beak on it - how
can that be? My heart pounds inside my breast. Try and try

to fly back up the dark hole but fail - my wings can’t spread
wide enough. I quail, trapped by hard air. Tap. And stare. Tap.

*

She stops tapping the glass, when she sees my hand near
to raise the hasp. As I open the door - she struggles past me,

flies, hits the window, fighting for freedom against the pane. 
I grasp her gently, enfolding her wings. Long after they part

to let her fly free, outside in the garden, my fingers
can still feel the racing thuds of her heart.

It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.