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Under standing
I find more than ground
or grief under me
among other things the damned
a sea of feathers
plain blood
the legs and body
of a tick
Poems on the topic: feather
Poems on the topic “feather” on Poets.by.
Speculators
a pleasant day is worth little
to the lords of chance
that great crowd
like lousy hair dressed in feathers
hanging one another’s heads
and laughing to see a wart a red eye
no beauty left to look upon
and no other mirth
Omen
Feathers in fish invite awe—
a sign that the king cannot see.
We sing, my wife and I.
We put my books and her books to bed.
Shortcut
A man with feathers was in quest
of a kite, but through want of time
was taken up by joy.
High words would have been better,
but all the company was dancing
and tumbling, vexed about joy.
Stood Up
Wine while I wait,
scarlet clothes like feathers
in the portmanteau.
Spruce grove
A brown-striped breast feather
floats down from a high bough
in the spruce grove
where some hawk or owl
plucked a grouse. The outermost
trees rock in the wind.
I step carefully as a bridegroom
over each raised
threshold of root.
Winter Road
Asphalt
fades to white
from weeks of salt.
Ice stitches
jack-knifed feathers
in the ditch
beside
the gray ridge
the snowplow made.
Phragmites rocks
in the wake
of passing trucks.
In Rememberance
Time's wings
have turned
into
scattered feathers
letters
forgotten
unwritten
the grass
now green
with rain
drops this
year's
flowers
against the
window.sight
changed eyes
Hook 4
the feather-hook is a seed spiralling in the breeze,
a false signal
it mocks the mayhem of the caught moth down to
its nub stone
its plane is a shell network of dried skin, veined even
it has a spine of sorts
it mocks the mayhem of the caught moth down to
its nub stone
Love
You seemed a caryatid melting
Into the wind-blown, dark blue temple of the sky.
But you bent down as I came closer, breaking the image.
When I passed, you raised your head
And blew the little feather of a smile upon me.
I caught it on open lips and blew it back.
And in that moment we loved,
Although you stood still waiting for your lover,
And I walked on to my love.
The Watcher
The long, grim years with iron tread
Move down the shuttered isle
Of time's unrecking labyrinth
Paved with forgotten dead.
And I, a feather in their wake,
Gaze long and tremblingly
Into these sunless corridors,
Praying the light to break!
Hummingbird Woman
Why should I be wondering
How you would look in black velvet and yellow ?
in orange and green?
I who cannot remember whether it was a dash of blue
Or a whirr of red under your willow throat —
Why do I wonder how you would look in hummingbird
feathers?
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