A single feather
Floats into the lost
Darkness.
Naked and silent;
Free in flight.
A swan
Makes way
To my opened window
Which had broken
The moon's reflection.
Snowflakes drop
Forming a standstill
Of life....
Love had melted
Its touch
As my fingers curl
Through the softness
Of the swans white feathers.
©Jack Aylward
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 7:53 PM UTC
A single feather
Floats into the lost
Darkness.
Naked and silent;
Free in flight.
A swan
Makes way
To my opened window
Which had broken
The moon's reflection.
Snowflakes drop
Forming a standstill
Of life....
Love had melted
Its touch
As my fingers curl
Through the softness
Of the swans white feathers.
©Jack Aylward
I wrote this on Christmas Eve a few years ago. The heavy snow, the moon and the illumination of light as well as the thought of Christmas inspired me to write this poem. There was no swan but the whiteness of snow and the moon caught my attention and the snowflakes were like swans feathers
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