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The 37th Wombat 📚🐝
wombat37.bsky.social
did:plc:xwlpswr5ni2crbmkoaaxhcfj
CODA
Imagine a sky
painted with anger,
angelwing feathers
falling like soft snow,
turning to bright ash,
airless & flightless,
tumbling through red clouds.
Life's precious seconds
spiral like contrails.
Morrigan hovers,
biding her moment.
A smell of burnt wings.
Our planet's last waltz.
#POEM
2024-07-05T22:23:05.790Z