Out of the fire she rises again and again, she says, renewed,
reborn, reinvigorated, not new so much as not the same, wings spread for flight
she has yet to take, not yet aware of where she might land if and when she
leaves this hollowed space, raised on a cliff for the uplift that lets her
rise, always this moment when she breathes deep before the leap.
Is flight even possible wen so many of her feathers are new,
and in that absence, in that moment when she expired in the fire, she knows not
if she can manage flight, so, waits, watches and wonder if she can, and if she
can where will it take her this time?
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