She is…
a girl who pulls long quilled feathers
out of her wing,
listens to her pulse
as it quickens
like rain drops
on an old barn roof.
She nudges…
through long lost pages
of fenced in things,
pokes Past with the tip of her quill
and watches for signs of truth.
She listens…
for the crackle crack pulling
of yellowing photos-
for tales of nestling poems
tapping on her window pain,
She tucks…
her quills into her wing,
opens her window and soars
with sunlit word-kissed birds
She is a girl who flys…
…with poetry….
That’s beautiful, but poignant. ❤
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Thanks so much Jack:)
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Sigh. So lovely I read it out loud. I hope my neighbour liked it too 🙂
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:)… thanks so much… have a gorgeous week:)
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I read this again because it showed up as a “more on WordPress.com” and I LOVED it even more than in early July!!!
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:)… ur the best … thanks so much 🙂
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You only see the best side of me, the other is just awesome 😉
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Hahaha:)
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Kae, your poetry is majestic
… as weaved with relevance.
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Thanks so much David:)
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