A faded feather shed upon the ground
trod underfoot,
soiled and bent,
Is still a feather

Though it no longer shines with colors bold,
no longer soars,
caressing the clouds
though it lays there
abandoned
in the dirt,
dreaming of sky

A still feather is a feather still
bent and broken
a feather still
Flightless and forgotten
a feather still

I am a feather


© 2025 Joan Zaruba. All rights reserved.