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Feathers of Truth

 

For Gennelle

 

 

 

when sol sets
your face becomes
a feather of truth
set on fire
by hoary angels.
witchy hair
like moonlit wings
perfectly ordered
surround the wisdom
of your flawless mind.

and souls so old
can never wear
the peacock mask;
can never play
in comedies
of futile posturing.
an ageless heart
burns away appearance,
shows the way,
and takes false feathers with it.

 

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Comments


  • Night Hope gold member
    November 16
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    I know you were very fond of Gennelle, and she of you, too, my Friend. What strange relationships we form between strangers who are not strangers at all, really, but kindred souls.



  • just mercedes gold member
    November 5, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    The feather of truth, against which our souls are weighed. Beautiful thoughts here.


  • myrataal silver member
    September 30, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    Wow.

    You MEAN to Po-Em them!

    Bitter bitter. And jittery.

    Cool it.

    I think you may write.