one grey feather;
an essential component
constructed of delicate fronds
that, like a zipper, gently interlock
on two opposite sides
of a pointed spine.

one lonely feather,
alienated from its design
to keep a bird warm and dry
and lend a lightness to its flight,
sinks, untrammelled,
in the steely sky.

one tiny feather;
floating in the sky;
dancing for its freedom;
swirling in the mild firmament,
being manipulated; mindlessly lifted
by the changeling wind’s whispering might,
in a losing battle for a feather so light;
just for an instant it appears
to be putting up a brave fight,
but the wind has lost interest
and is off to find a new game,
leaving the grey feather
to sink,spinning,
to the earth.

One fallen feather
held between my fingers,
one used-up, beautiful thing;
a single constituent of the wing,
an intrinsic piece of the jigsaw;
as valuable as a leaf, a bee
a whale, or an elephant,
and equally crucial;
equally strong;


Written for The Daily Post #Fragile

Β©Jane Paterson Basil


25 thoughts on “Feather

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