Because they wear out

from rigors of nesting, these dry
dusting feathers drifting down
through the night-trees—

Have I changed? Can you see it
as ugly duckling flared to phoenix?
Or what tale can describe that
freeing flight earth-up, sky-down
through forests reclaiming all
the bones of empire?

wings spread and settle, fledgling
soul curled small, moss-soft
beneath the fallen log (discarded
feathers caught in the grain);
practiced eye of greenway wanderer
will see it’s forever new

For Meg, the greenway wanderer at Pigspittle, Ohio, who shared her beautiful photo of Feathers on a Log and pointed me to this article on molting.

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17 thoughts on “Because they wear out

  1. I’m rereading and catching more and more consonance. My favorite are the l’s in “settle, fledgling/soul curled small”. This poem just demands to be read aloud. (How was your move? Are you all settled?)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sometimes I think the sounds are happy accidents…sometimes I try. 🙂 (Working on new home and enrolling kids in school, stressful but getting there. Thanks for asking.)

      Like

  2. “Or what tale can describe that
    freeing flight earth-up, sky-down
    through forests reclaiming all
    the bones of empire?”

    Wow! The bones of empire — all in a little bird.

    Lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I find this section especially wonderful –
    ‘wings spread and settle, fledgling
    soul curled small, moss-soft
    beneath the fallen log’
    – it reads like an entire poem in itself, with so much music and rhythm in the words.

    Liked by 1 person

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