Wings of spun sugar,
wrapped up in paper:
a gift from the god
who lived down the river.
His increasing favor
had grown even greater,
intentions made known
with sprawling curled letters:
“It’s true, you are sweeter
than all other creatures.
My bird, won’t you sail
through my sky on these feathers?
But when there is thunder
or the sky’s clouded over,
go home right away
where you’ll be warm and safer.”
So when skies were clear,
I’d don crystal feathers,
eyes on the horizon
for clouds taking over.
I’d soar, and I’d hover
over meadows of clover
leaves of forest below
like waves of the water.
But when I’d stray farther
than I had ever,
I’d hurry back home
as blue skies turned grayer.
It never did matter
just how nice the weather
was before leaving;
it always turned sour.
One day I discovered
with my candy feathers,
a place more beautiful
than my mind could muster.
Landing with a bluster,
I entered the cavern
and there in the dark found
the nest of some creature.
Off over my shoulder
I heard distant thunder,
but there was plenty of time
to fly home, I figured.
Her wings were of ochre;
they spread from her shoulders.
She guarded her eggs
with the strength of a mother.
Her eyes burned with fervor
at my wings made of sugar,
and I saw in her gaze
questions I couldn’t answer.
The thunder boomed closer,
calling for my departure,
so I took to the sky
as the wind became quicker.
I flew with on vigor
and just a few prayers
to bring me home safely
as the storm quickly gathered.
But soon came the downpour,
and I landed in terror
as my wings began melting
into puddles of sugar.
I walked home in slippers
then my cheeks grew redder
embarrassed to find
in my cabin, a visitor.
“You can’t fly in this weather--
did you not remember?”
His words rang out harshly
as his eyes shaded darker.
“I’ll make you a new pair,”
he said through his temper.
“But you have to stay grounded
during inclement weather.”
So I smiled sweeter
than any smile prior,
and I promised obedience
while crossing my fingers.
Then alone by the fire,
my soul burned with anger,
for he is the god
who sends rain on the farmers.
Six rainy days later,
new wings wrapped in paper
arrived at my door,
fragile feathers of sugar.
Veiled gifts from a lover--
no, gaslighting imprisoner.
Sugar wings are a cage,
just a gold-gilded tether.
I waited till after
his eyes seemed to wander
And then I flew off in the sun
to revisit the creature.
She bid me come closer
letting me study her:
grown her eggs and her wings
both apart from another.
Maybe that was the answer
to my gold-gilded tether.
Cut it myself--
then it started to thunder.
Lifting up in the air,
candy wings beating faster,
I now knew what to do
all thanks to my teacher.
Feet landing on clover
it started to downpour,
and I doffed candy wings
throwing them in the river.
Reaching for my interior,
I felt waiting, a flutter
--something bold and alive
that’d been with me forever.
I gasped out in labor,
but the pain was an anchor
as they sprout from my back--
something harder than sugar.
They were longer and stronger
than any god’s favor.
The wings of my flesh
shook and flung off the water.
With my own wings unhindered,
my feet left the clover
lifting me in the air
without even a stutter.
That god up the river
called me his bird, only sweeter.
What he didn’t realize
is I’m some other creature.
I have grown my own savior
from deep in my shoulders.
Now I fly untethered
in sun or in rain.
Jordan Hirsch writes speculative fiction and poetry in Saint Paul, MN, where she lives with her husband. Her work has appeared with Apparition Literary Magazine, Octavos, and other venues. Find her on Twitter: @jordanrhirsch.
