Do I feel pity for them, the ones who languish down below? While I sail the updrafts,
Wings buffeted by opposing winds, they scurry about, these creatures tied by gravity and
Need to Earth’s secure illusion. Would I trade places with them for the prospect of
Lifelong love, slow sex on a rainy day, a five course meal with créme brulee as dessert?
Give up flight and walk on two spindly limbs for the whisper of a lover? I’d miss my wings.
Here’s another take on this by The Bard of Liminga: