The Watcher

January 20, 2011
By , Park City, UT
She sits atop a tree
sparkling in the light
Day in and out
to sit,
and watch

Looking down upon
laughing children,
tinsel spread around
beautiful as she is
she is frozen forever
never to fly
or become something

Porcelain skin
begins to crack
Wings breaking open
stretching to the world
A face no longer cold and hard
but soft and perfect
as she rises
her feet pull free
from her chains

Beating wings
carry her up
higher to the sky
finally to rest
upon a soft puff
to sit,
and protect.

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