Flight
The forest’s stillness feels like peace
I wish it were
I wish it were
The hope inside us a release
I wish it were
But it will cease
The sunshine filters through the glade
A bright attack
A bright attack
The light won’t save us from their blade
A bright attack
Hope starts to fade
A wooden hut to shelter in
Our breathing deep
Our breathing deep
If there’s no battle, they can’t win
Our breathing deep
Sweat leaves cold skin
One final push to make it back
I know we can
I know we can
Though long and open is the track
I know we can
Though speed we lack
Their raiders have us on the run
We’re nearly home
We’re nearly home
But silver’s severing the sun
We’re nearly home
We’re nearly done
I wish it were
I wish it were
The hope inside us a release
I wish it were
But it will cease
The sunshine filters through the glade
A bright attack
A bright attack
The light won’t save us from their blade
A bright attack
Hope starts to fade
A wooden hut to shelter in
Our breathing deep
Our breathing deep
If there’s no battle, they can’t win
Our breathing deep
Sweat leaves cold skin
One final push to make it back
I know we can
I know we can
Though long and open is the track
I know we can
Though speed we lack
Their raiders have us on the run
We’re nearly home
We’re nearly home
But silver’s severing the sun
We’re nearly home
We’re nearly done
This poem is copyright (©) Ian Brownlie 2024
About the Writer
Ian Brownlie
Ian lives with his family in Marlow, Bucks (UK). His prospective middle grade novel, Solomon Brown from Hero Town, was longlisted for the Times/Chicken House Children's Fiction Competition. His poems have been published in The Dirigible Balloon and The Toy.
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