I'll always see the feathers fly
carried on the wind
catching on the window pane.
I held your hand
and you whispered,
from just this side of heavens door,
in soft round tones, circles of apologies.

I placed my finger on your fading lips
for we should only speak of love in times like these;
I couldn't meet your eyes
so I looked again upon the stars in the midnight sky,
that seemed to be lulling you into them,
with the most gentle of siren songs.

A dove landed on the sill and peered back into me
and I knew it was waiting;
you gave my hand a weak caress
that bore all you needed to say,
I washed you anew with my tears of selfishness
for I knew I must release you.

My eyes closed, without my permission
so I focused on just feeling you there;
then
our last exchange,
swirled around us as if the barest of air;
and all was gone
in a flurry of feathers and stars and wings and song
against a midnight sky;
and I might not see you in the light
but I'll always see the feathers fly.

kg
8-23-07