Flight

[ellajam]

Hi, milo. I can't put off my critique any longer because I am dying to read all the comments and your responses. Here are a few notes.

It is the lie of birds that you need wings,
the lie of time that gravity
brings you to the ground, presses
like a pillow against your face;
soft, unbreakable.
The first line grabs me and the explanation works, just. I don't think of gravity as so gentle, but it's an interesting idea. Gravity and ground work well with the space between them. The semicolon seems off.

The clouds of summer call
like cold salt-cream, but wait
till autumn forms
as long striated runways in the sky,
then climb
Cold salt-cream and striated runways are lovely. The but seems off, maybe you could drop it if the opening "the" was changed to "though", or something better that you will think of.

higher than the jealous, root-bound
trees can stretch their branches,
hooked and bare like knuckled grasps.
Go to where the cliffs tower,
where the sea crashes far below and mists
up in a howl of billows, the pale blue
of a loose night shirt.
I can't get why knuckled grasps are bare, howl of billows is lovely.

Link arms and dive
upwards till the sound of surf,
breaking bones on rocks,
dissolves in white-noise static.
Twist through the clouds
in their spectre-gray grave linens
to where the oxygen is rare
spun candy on your tongue,
cast off earth-heavy thoughts,
close your eyes
and fly.
I like dive upwards and twist through the clouds. White-static noise is a bit cliche.
I don't think spectre-gray grave linens justifies an exception to avoiding consonant slide. Grave linens are better than shrouds, maybe you can do something about the gray, attaching it to spectre didn't smooth out the sound for me.
I like the oxygen/spun candy, earth-heavy is a bit common.

Thanks for posting this, a consistently enjoyable read. The sonics and the idea suit each other, yes, a flight.