We hold the feather in our hand
It is frail
Like baby bones
We lift it up to the light
The wind kisses our fingers
We see the skeleton lines
It is magical
How they hold the silken skin
We imagine the bird in flight
Struggling
Then soaring
Enjoying the currents
Discarding a gift
Just for us
Alice breathes quickly
We have been collecting
Feathers
Shells
And leaves
For Dormouse
We will build him the perfect nest
She squeals
We walk back home
Along the grassy path
The patches of green
Stick to the bottom
Of our shoes
We have a box
For Dormouse's nest
We carefully place the feather inside
It looks majestic
Full of wonder
But we need something soft as well
Maybe tomorrow we will find
Wool on the fence
Or fur from a passing cat
Maybe tomorrow we will
Have tea and cakes too
For the tea party
I would like that very much
She says
We close the box
Happy with our treasures.
The most amazing thing that I only learned recently is that bird bones are hollow to assist them in flight. So miraculous are the workings of nature, it always blows me away. I love the box for Dormouse's nest, and that you placed the feather inside it. Happy with your treasures. This entire poem is a treasure. I took such delight in reading it.
ReplyDeleteI love to collect feathers, and other treasures, myself. I like the way you describe this one,
ReplyDeleteIt is frail
Like baby bones
We lift it up to the light
The wind kisses our fingers
We see the skeleton lines
It is magical
How they hold the silken skin
and where the poem leads you after that.
Nice one
ReplyDeleteGood Wednesday
Much❤love
The fragile life !
ReplyDeletethis has a nice flow, and you tell a vivid story here. it has good movement, pulled me all the way through, i enjoyed this very much
ReplyDelete