To heal I must rise on the wings of solace,
But with broken feathers,
I see only dirt on the ground.
Leaden and useless, I am nothing.
And yet, as I caress the earth,
I find I can clear a path…
Broken Feathers by T. James, © June, 2012.
June 18, 2012 at 11:38 am
June 21, 2012 at 2:25 pm
June 21, 2012 at 12:10 pm
Wow short and sweet.. I get the feeling there was more you wanted to say?
I really like it
June 21, 2012 at 2:27 pm
No, that was it – I wanted to leave the reader with a thought… I’m glad you liked what there was though.
June 21, 2012 at 3:07 pm
Simple and image-ful (if that’s a word, and if not, I just made it up)
A lot of poetry goes the epic route. And I’ve found I like the ones that encapsulate an idea in a lot less space.
June 21, 2012 at 3:27 pm
This was partially influenced by our discussions on the short story format – framing ideas and letting the reader fill in the gaps for themselves…
June 22, 2012 at 7:57 pm
Evocative and touching, nicely done TJ.
June 23, 2012 at 10:48 am
Thanks, Gareth. I appreciate you taking the time to read it.
June 23, 2012 at 2:34 am
Love the shift in emotion from despair to optimism, especially for a short poem like this.
June 23, 2012 at 10:50 am
Thank you, Marianne. I was trying for a lift at the end…
June 24, 2012 at 10:01 am
That was very good, TJ.
June 24, 2012 at 4:48 pm
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