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// Flying High 
// Story: The Next Lesson 
// by Bandy 
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Flimsy flappers, falling branches, sunrise slow as soft molasses. Hark we go into the sky. Flap flap flap and up real high. 

Falling branches down below, scary monsters down there roam. Safety in the summer sky. Safety’s up up up real high. 

Down below the monsters roam, jagged teeth and crushing bones. We don’t worry, they can’t fly. Tweet tweet tweet! my sisters cry. 

Leave the forest, go to town. There there’s foodstuff on the ground. Peck peck peck a crumb of bread. Sugar sweet rush in my head. 

Big commotion, voices speaking. I can’t understand the meaning. Peck peck Woah! a cart rolls through, kicks up crumbs and cobbles too. 

On the roof I sit and watch, away from scary stomping mosh. A hundred ponies making noise,
clop of hooves and jangling coins.

Silly ponies, don’t they see? They’ll never be as smart as me. Time is not to spend or see. Time is flimsy flapping free.

There is no now, nor is there then. Time is not to see or spend. I see it now as plain as day. Time is here for me to play!

Hark we go into the sky. Flap flap flap and up real high. The ponies don’t speak birdy song. We sing, but they don’t sing along. 

Flapping hard, the forest looms, the trees are carved with ancient runes. Fold my wings and dive down deep, fast so monsters can not eat. 

Nest is near, the call rings true. Another day, another hue. Another is that turns to was, another song that I have sung.

Flimsy flappers filled the sky, falling leaves and lullabies. Tweet tweet tweet! my sisters said. Return to nest and go to bed.