Who?

When I broke out of my casing

The air was sweet

For one accustomed to

The cloying putrescence of the earth

Where I had lain buried for many a day

On the blossom-scented dusk of a late spring

I felt warm winds and soared into the sweet air

Scaly wings unfurling, furtively feeling my way

I took to the sky, lost in its leaden hue

So who