I have a collection of fine feathers
because there are those who thought I needed them:
Oh mother, if I could have made them stick,
perhaps they would have lifted me from your grave
more swiftly. One, who saved me, gave me a name,
a home, and you; the world owes you for anything
I might have done is to your credit.
Not one feather did you give to me, but many:
Feathers of hope on the worst day, sitting
in a the middle of mountains of laundry,
a white mark on my left ring finger,
a black mark in our community for it,
a struggle I could not believe I could survive
because my daughter had whispered a secret to you…
Oh, my god, how did you know it was my secret too?
For thirty years I had kept it from you
because I could not have you think
I had given any of my feathers away.
In a list
A contest entry
- contest by alovedisorder.
500 points, ended February 26, 2007, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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I absolutely love this poem
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This one really hits the heart and soul. An excellent piece. Short and powerful.
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This one really hits the heart and soul. An excellent piece. Short and powerful.
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thank you Amunet. I seldom write this close to home.
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"Not one feather did you give to me, but many:
Feathers of hope on the worst day..." The Belle of Amherst knew of what she wrote when she penned "Hope is the thing with feathers", my Friend...You do have a fine collection, my Sister...& they gather around you, ensuring flight...Good luck in the contest, Sweetie...
Wanda
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ty wanda, gf....this oen hurt a little to write.
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Wow..I had to click on this one; I just wrote about feathers too..what a coincidence. But yours is filled with many colors; trying to protect the ones we love.
Very moving write my friend, and the ending was perfect.
She knows...she knows..and loves you for it.
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