They stand still, quiet. They loom over the ground, their canopies tightly gathered around the metal trunks. They seem dignified and stern, refusing to ruffle even with the wind.
The lights appear, one by one, weaving a tight black net over the metal trees like spiders drawing in towards their prey. Menacing, glowing evil, sure of their victory.
Then the trees breathe sharply, all in unison, the white branches lifting and dropping back down with a thud.
A second of silence.
One of the trees extends a second trunk to the ground, spreads two gigantic white fabric branches into a pair of wings, lifts a sharp beak to the web above and bites sharply into it. The lights break helplessly, the web is viciously torn.
The other trees also lift their beaks towards the clouds, clamping loudly, deafeningly.
The first tree that had moved flaps its wings and lifts off the ground through the hole in the net, followed by its siblings. All the while, they keep clamping their beaks like a flock of storks, three meters tall and made of steel and fabric. But who says you shouldn't fly if you are made of steel and fabric?
This one just didn't want to be poetry, try as I might. Since I already knew what I wanted to say, the words were forced to be tame and didn't flow. So I let it turn into prose and it was nice enough to snap its little tail for the sake of the public.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I had to read it twice to understand what actual object you were talking about, the pic gave it away ;-P
ReplyDeleteYes, why-ever not! They have the bone structure and the wings - all they need is the will.
I got the idea one evening before going to sleep. Sorry the story is a bit confusing, but hey, surprise ending. :)
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