soul's wing, courtesy of Ella Wilson
Watermark
I listen to a
broadcast
about food auctions
Expired comestibles
spare ribs and cheese
curls
whose sell by date
has lapsed
yes, it’s come to
this
Who knows
about dreams?
Do they expire too
as arms wither
and language
grows meager
Where there once
was a full larder
The pheasants rose
a family in flight
They weren’t
expecting us
returning to the land
that we turn over
every night in our
dreams
bliss of vellum
watermarks
lucid with
memory
The pheasants are
rising
out of the grasses
A family of them
startled by our
presence.
And we are
astonished by the beauty
of it all.
a tail feather
dew soaked
new
a tail feather
dew soaked
new
Written for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, soul's wing; Theme Thursday "promise" and for Poetry Jam, I straddle 2 genres: political and fantasy.
