RIPPLES

As we raised at the third whiff of the Autumn, we shook water off our wings and ran along the surface of the sea for minutes, letting the wind gradually lift us up with each beat and soon only our feet tapped upon the still surface, hard at first, lighter soon, until only our tiptoes dabbed gently, leaving perfect ripples behind…

As the others climbed the wind toward the sky, my feet got shackled down, caught by the greedy ripples that pulled me back down, never to let me leave again.