in response

(to 'missed opportunities')
I need that
feather you
walked past I
need to find it
in my hand and
buy the ink I
require to
write its lines
and sing them
abroad to any
ears that will
listen - else
what is a life
to do with
when all else
has gone?  pared
down pared down there
are only the
words left the
magic feather

in the hand that
catches them
and brings them
down to earth - the
living notes the
living words the
human  eyes and
heart splayed
on the page to help
others feel the real
live age
and rue it
or love it well

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