Spirituous Abounds as Always

So recently the birds have flown, there are still feathers in my hair. Slip into day across the vast oceans, surrounding golden autumn maple trees high above Mt Olympus beholding the Gods at their best. Thru clouds in Alpine jungles to tents in hills on land. Sparrows to the gallows where the hangman plays games but never too old when we are all out of danger, if at all that we see and all that we must slip into day for a lifetime.