Friendship Day

    by Snipe

High above-
a grizzled old buzzard of a pterosaur
hobbles to the mouth of its cave
lifts its head
to taste the air
scanning the horizon
with its good eye

The sun breaks
through the clouds
and the old one answers
opening its wings to absorb the warmth
This will do nicely it thinks

The moment is shattered
by a shrill call-
the cliff wall explodes
dozens of pterosaurs
of every size
make and model
stand tall
on the precipice of their caves
then

Drop-
their beaks
are spears
pointed to the ground
wings tucked tight
they
fall
like angels from grace

Below
in Canyon City
the entire populace
holds its breath

Two heartbeats
past the last conceivable moment-
the wings unfurl
as squadrons slice the air
just feet above the cheering crowds

The pterosaurs circle and land
their dive signaling
the start of Friendship Day
in Canyon City

Each town begins
the celebration with a display
unique unto itself

High above
the laughter and hugs,
the games and gifts-
the old pterosaur sits
shifting its weight
and looking down at it all

How long has it been
it wondered
scanning the sorry condition
of its wings
Best to stay here
and wait for one of the younger to
remember and bring a fish

The Island hears
and sends a warm thermal
wind right up the face of the cliff
The old one understands
bowing its head in thanks

Slowly it makes its way
to the edge and peers

Down
so
far
below
the celebration goes on

Resolute
it stands tall and straight
as it did so many times before-

Surrenders

About half way down
someone glances up-
to point in wonder
at the single
falling
comet

The old one closes its good eye
to revel in this perfect moment
one last gift from its oldest
friend
The Island

As it approaches the surface
The Island gently reminds its
friend to open its wings-
A warm rush of air
catches the old kite
to carry it gently
to the ground

The old pterosaur
lands perfection
the model of nobility
soaking in the admiration of the crowd

The younger pterosaurs
wing walk over
circling the older
their backs to it,
the crowd unsure of their intent

With their elder
in the middle
the youngsters hold their wings high
throwing back their heads
to sound out the clan cry

The old pterosaur
opens its fragile wings
to embrace all-
the younger of its clan
who honor it
the assembled townfolk
who cheer it,
and most of all-

Its friend The Island itself.

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