Behold an August Day

Behold an August day a flock of black ravens flew their way to freedom. What else is in the air? A flock of white falcons flying in pairs with the ravens. I could tell it’s been hard, for the ravens have been scarred from a storm. A wild tempest lasting years and years there was no rest to their fears But they didn’t care not anymore. Even though their wings are sore, they will fly evermore. The one in front I could barely see but the way he flew inspired me. He was graceful, peaceful, like every bird was equal. He sang a song forgetting his past singing “Free at last! Free at last!”