She needs a new song.
One that doesn’t sting.
One that doesn’t swing
its way long ’round her
neck like a millstone.
She
needs a new tune,
a new land
-mark, a quiet spark
and some well-worn
shoes to mark the mud.
She needs a new smile
-tone, a quiet stone to
hold each wandered fret,
set her feet to dancing,
remind her she’s got
wings.
..
prompted by Poetic Asides.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Water’s heads. I like.
Also “sheds” as verb.
I love the idea of water shedding away your top layer. And the last part – we all need to be reminded that we’ve got wings, don’t we? It’s so easy to forget in this crazy world of ours.
From feet to wings, as in a n Escher sketch, is a fabulous path on every level.