If I could teach you to fly, I would

In a city of thousands
I am the first to watch
you fly. Jumps, boldness,
hesitation, your head and
beak pointing to distraction.

Vivid, surrounded, color and
shades of sky darker and
lighter than the blue of
morning. Sound tells you
it is warm for January.

If I could teach you to fly,
it would be the same. Color
before solitude, boldness before
company, distraction before
destination. And I falling.