white feathers

thoughts,
like children left alone
in a room full of pillows,
inevitably lead
to thousands of loose
downy white feathers
which must be
gathered up somehow
slippery,
defiant
of gravity
itching
to stick to you.

Mother, just close the door
for now.
don’t you  think
it is time for tea and oranges?

Reviews

[Blue Sky]

thoughts as soft and delicate
as the moments
as the white feathers,
such a charming piece
with wonderful images
you done that so nicely here,
excellent work!