On The Wing

When I'm sitting on the bus or waiting somewhere with a lot of people, I like to imagine wings on every person to pass the time.

Everyone has very different wings. Some are shorter, some longer. Some flutter often, some flap gently as they go by. Some hardly move (yet have presence). Some people have elegant wings that arch high when they're folded, some have drooping wings. Still others have wings that are large and regal, but are held close to the body and tucked snugly to the body. Some are shimmering white with dark black flecks at the tips, like a snowy owl. Some are a blended mix of earthen tones and brown speckles, and some are patterned like an osprey. Some have soft and downy feathers, some have fine and neatly lined feathers without a single one out of place. Some have ruffled feathers, yet nicely so. Some wings are held at the sides, while others are set sweeping backwards from the shoulders. Some have straight and angular wings that sit very upright on the shoulders, and some have rounded ones that are fluffed out. Some are hunched and angled, poised, above the shoulders of the wearer. And some people have a way of carrying their wings so, so beautifully.

I've never seen anyone fly yet, but they all have wings.

(Am I crazy?)