i keep finding these feathers
enormous black feathers
mostly intact
these feathers that i find
sometimes they have been
broken, tangled and wet with blood
dangling fleshy strings
these feathers belong to birds
who no longer soar
i find them
these feathers
scattered and drifting
they drift
they fall without weight
i once found a hummingbird
that had died
it was like watching a handful
of emeralds and rubies
becoming dim evaporating light
as they sighed in darkness
the humming bird’s body
was lighter than many
of the feathers i find
the feathers
i keep finding them
they keep finding me
i drift with them
it won’t hurt when i hit
the ground
my feathers were taken
from me in flight
i will descend without effort
find me among the feathers
Words and Feathers 
Love the poem, but it’s so sad…
Sadness offers its own peace. 😊
Sometimes, yes… 😀
This is rather beautiful, if a little sad
Thank you.
Wow–wonderful poem. I agree it’s very sad, but reflective, much more than words about feathers. 😉
Thank you very much.
Holy ****
Thanks!
Delerious (K)
I didn’t find this poem sad at all! To me the feathers are obstructions that you don’t need, you will descend without effort and the ground won’t hurt you……….
I think it can go either way. But I never dispute a reading!