The Plumage Malady

By Strataic

A feather fell--

Tumblers twirled slowly
To devolve-
Finger-faces.

Around this world
Of out stretched nails.

They were pure red with mere seconds,
Though tendrils fumbled for periods more.

We could fit in between-
Folder-bindings.

These were concealed
By blue branches--
Because the skies had
Tripped over.

And wishes were skulked
From memory lane.

This--
This where
Only space existed.

I should have worn my stilts.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2013 Cipher
Published on Sunday, August 11, 2013.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "The Plumage Malady"

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  • dwells On Tuesday, August 13, 2013, dwells (4288)By person wrote:

    Walk tall, or not at all bro! Marvelous and magical, cheers!

  • xZombie Poptartzx On Monday, August 12, 2013, xZombie Poptartzx (334)By person wrote:

    "is where Only space existed. I should have worn my stilts." i LOVE that ending. probably one of my favorites. you always amaze me :) xoxo


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