Feathers

A poem about the way light looks through feathers.

Dawn

snaps into being like the jerk of a fan

slowly each panel settles

the unfurling segments of a cut orange

gold seeps molten into fine branches

that float outwards into soft talons

scrapes the air with fiery tails of burnt yellow

the wind hurries them

if music was visible those wings

a drifting ensemble of chimes

flaps slow

with the deliberate laziness of

the dead underwater

the bird rises with the sun

its feathers filling with light

Author's Note

Ignore the lack of punctuation and the odd lines, i never know where everything should go, just felt like writing some imagery :)

Reviews

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This was some good imagery =) I could actually picture it