Each Feather, the Ghost of a Wing
Feathers are a kind of magick
one feather does not make a bird
but each feather is the ghost of a wing
that touched the face of the sky
One feather does not give flight
but the memory of flight clings to it
holding on, keeping the scent of it
like smoke in the cloth of a favorite sweater
The texture of clouds
holds the feather together
ephemeral moments of wing flap
the rush of wind, the defiance of gravity’s firm law
The soul of the bird in its feather
each one a ghost of a wing
the memory of rebellion
feathers are a special kind of magick
7 thoughts on "Each Feather, the Ghost of a Wing"
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Great stuff here. The sounds are crackling, and the lines are like axioms to be held onto in one’s sleep. Again, great poem
That first stanza grabs and doesn’t let go.
Agreed with Bernie!
Adored:
“ The soul of the bird in its feather
each one a ghost of a wing
the memory of rebellion”
‘the soul of a bird is in its feather’, love this poem.
I love the poem’s use of all five senses.
The ghost of a wing—beautiful!
Thank you all, I’m really happy you all enjoyed this. This one was one I wasn’t entirely sure how it would turn out when I started it. I love feathers, the idea of them, the symbol they hold. I’m really glad I was able to share some of that through this poem and that you all have enjoyed it so much.