…
We wish on stars, lashes,
pennies, stones,
other fallen
things. We sing
in syllables left wanting,
grasp loose
feathers for want
of wings.
Holding breath for side
-walk, train track,
we braid our brightest
fears, weave
a tiny saffron spell
to cure the morning,
salt soak it
in tears.
…
quickly prompted
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Beautiful, De!
Thanks, Rosemary. Hey, where can I find you these days? Your clicky says that site’s deleted.
Wow, this is so good–I love “grasp loose feathers for want of wings”–that’s extraordinary!
I have a cup of feathers from birds that have visited my yard…
not enough for a single wing, but just enough for a dream. 🙂
De could line-break this comment into a poem for you!
This is very well put and does make you think about the irony of why we try to grasp to tightly to the loose things and always to wish for more permanent wishes.
Oh De!! This is like a mantra…so much beauty and hope and longing pulsed into this poem!! Love every word.