Plumeology

A feather in the fern, in the fight
In the middle of the air
In the bird, in the night.

A feather in the hat, in the heart
In the middle of the day
In the rest, in the play.

A feather in the...
cloak, in the spoke
in the quagmire choke
of bland,
where the soft miry land
will shake and yield
to understand
to hand the hand
in wonder grande.

A feather in the quill, in the will
in the brave and the ill,
In the wanting
In the waiting
and still.
In the start and the middles,
and encore of fiddles
in the know
in the now
and the riddles.

Every soul is a spine
stitched to feathers and time,
and gentle
with mine
you are here.
Every soul is a lover
and history book mother
and father of love over fear.

The Nares of Looking

Oh gentle tread
in dreams beneath
our footing,
will rise and curl
to meet the nares
of looking.

To tilt the head
and swell the cache
of wonder,
vanilla balm
the babes of
darling slumber.

With milk and skin
and wrapped around
our founding
in strawberry fresh
and summer rain
to grounding.

In swift lit match
to dolly flame
to travel quick
to earthen dame
and lumber smoked
in tendrils silver
where hearts
lay camped
in maple
winter.

Where forest gum
and crispest pine
will coax to blissful,
the scent the sense of
ever afters
wishful...

and even regular
and pavement heat
all drenched in parking,
the rainstorm
is the steam cup
for the larkin'...

Steamboat in a
coffee grinding glory,
where the ocean salted history
warms our story,
Oh gentle tread
the thread beneath
our footing
will rise and curl
to meet the nares
of looking.

Hibiscus Sol

Pick a piece of sky
and winnow with the why
and tripsis the ellipsis to our
side.
And arch we do to rise
and bend the way to wise
and swallow light
though greatest fight
entangles.
For life won't always answer
or shade your tiny dancer
the one with joyous skirt
and tender hurt,
But keep her in your heart
the very softest part
though sleeping she lies
peeping to awake.