Tag Archives: feathers

Shaking out the Down 

“I am a feather for each wind that blows.” William Shakespeare :: Look up, the sky’s a fluffered songof promise. A float of hope.  Let’s make ourselves a small and quiet place to gather these loose quills caught.  **Cue the lightning.** On second thought, let’s not. … Continue reading

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Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Sun’s a Golden Lozenge 

And there’s a croak in my throat and so from now on I shall speak only in braille, the ache of words unspokenthe frail flurry of feathersthe echo of this bright sky.  I know the chance I’m takingbut it’s a choice I’m makingjust in case … Continue reading

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a story held tight in syllabled fist 

see, here’s the gist: this poem does not want to be told. she’s holding it all in way too close to feathered chest assuming playing dumband stumbled silence bestfor flying below the radar, or snow.  see, here’s the ghost: of chance, she cannot speak. it’s been a week … Continue reading

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

oh, blackbird with a crooked wing 

all broken midnight feathered thing, shall you only sigh to sky? i crimp your caw to heart and i  long to loan you sting of bee and yawn of moonor paper dragon fire, the bold desire to build your           (wings)    self of steam.  ::It’s Quadrille Monday over at dverse, … Continue reading

Posted in dVerse poems, Quadrille | Tagged , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Things We Said in the Storm 

The sky’s a hurry-cane scrim,but we’re still scribbling light-ning above the din.  We promised ourselves we wouldn’t hide, even as the cloud cauldron stirred.  And when we thought we might run out of time, we plucked our own feathers to write these lines.  :: In … Continue reading

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Against the Strand

.. Three blackbirds etch their signature across a sapphire shore swollen with sunlight. She quills her own song in the snow with tail feathers and broken ink.   .. Prompted by toads. The word group I worked up was: swollen   … Continue reading

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petaled pages of love

.. we quench our thirst with feathered spell, and poems fall like early flowers. ..    

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Grace

.. We say it quietly – a low, large hum. We breathe it in, looking around this overcrowded table. Prime rib and turkey and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and green beans and orange fluff. We laugh ourselves loose and … Continue reading

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Resting, in Pieces

  .. When I leave this place, give me wildflowers and feathers and fire. Song. Words spilled out, and some part of me scattered by the sea. We are all but shine specs, souls shedding dust and waiting.   .. … Continue reading

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Fledgling Thoughts, Caught

.. They are the stuff of fluff, and float. Of pillows and bed and quiet nesting. Of arrow quest and scritching quill. Of flutter. Of hollow bones and hope and reasons to fly. We collect them in jars and quivers, … Continue reading

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