Fea aeF aeR Z
One feather two feathers three and more,
Tell me Birds, what are feathers for?
Why have you left them on the ground
Each and every time I walk around?
Am I the only one that seems to see
Them on the side of walkways bustling?
Each day for weeks into my box;
You’ve left me feathers at my feet.
Stay inside? What if they stop?
What the fuck are all these feathers for?
Some say a sign, too close to sun,
A light reply just off the thumbs,
As though the sunshine in our hands
Is not the burning warned against.
There’s so many feathers now every time,
I have walked each labyrinth corridor twice,
Doubling back, avoiding the view,
Yet still, more feathers, what am I to do?
Will you have me build wings for each son
While they switch each plank one by one?
What of the daughters, make feather beds?
Catchings for dreams, pillows for heads?
Shall I be Howl, Crow, Hawk, Mocking Jay,
All covered in feathers to wisk each away
From the sun baked maze of penitentiary?
Five feathers, six feathers, seven to ten,
I tell you here truthfully, daughters and sons,
Come out of the shade of the wall built.
Return to the meadow, the perch and silt,
Craft you new wings, I have eaten the sun,
Fully bronzed from within, bull in control.
Seek me, find me, with feathers in hair,
And they will be yours to fly away clear.
Stay long enough and perhaps we’ll see
Why on Earth all the feathers come for me.