A Fang-style Poem

The other day in English, we had to write poems about fog. Because I had just read Maximum Ride, and was thinking about how Fang had a blog, I decided to write a poem from his point of view and then put it on my blog. So here it is!

Tired eyes open,
Stiff limbs stretch.
A glance reveals the others still asleep.

All is silent.
Outside: fog.
Thick like a blanket;
Impossible to see through.

Wings spread.
I take flight.
Wet and cold,
It hits me like a wall.
Fog is airborne water,
And I am an airborne person.

The only sound
Is the air
Displaced by my wing strokes
As I fly.
Climbing quickly.
Cool, crisp air fills my lungs.

Looking down,
Nothing but white.
Looking up,
Clear blue sky.
Free.