We wait and sense the slow pull
as the word turns. We watch
its curving
rolling under
us. Sometimes I think that if I hover
long enough
the warm lands will come to me
reaching with green feathers
from a brown earth
POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
We wait and sense the slow pull
as the word turns. We watch
its curving
rolling under
us. Sometimes I think that if I hover
long enough
the warm lands will come to me
reaching with green feathers
from a brown earth
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Ren, I love this. The image of “green feathers” reaching up.
Thank you
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