A feathered thing (Day 740)

That thing has feathers 

for a reason   it flies away 

away   toward the green hills 

or the brown   over fences 

and stands of trees   past 

where those soldiers lay in rows   

or where they fell   scattered 

like petals   like stones 

that thing has feathers to fly 

into the golden sun as it rises 

as it sets   through lavender 

banks of clouds    against gales   

storms   fierce burning sleet 

flies toward the south  the east 

toward distant mountains 

crystalized in shimmering air

and strange warm seas 

where shadows sink and swim  

but   though it perches here 

and there  I often glimpse it 

flying away   its song 

receeding   trickling 

into the blue  blue distance  

In response to Emily Dickinson

(c) 2019, by Hannah Six