October Feathers II – Beverly Dyer

Four feathers cut like quills
to scribble the moon
out of the sky

to scratch
scratch
scratch

and one so small
I can hardly hold it
between my finger and my thumb

two feathers
curved like blades
to slice the wind

and three as smooth
as paper

and one so small
it floats away
on the words I whisper

one feather
like a sunrise
pink with hope
like a freshly ironed blouse
on the bus into town

and one striped like
a tiger prowling
through the lily pads
of the polystyrene jungle

and one dotted
like a widow’s veil

and one that speaks
only to me

shhh

Mish is hosting at dVerse tonight. She’s introduced us to Beverly Dyer, and asked us to choose one of her gorgeous paintings to inspire our verse tonight. I chose a painting of feathers – so tactile, so enigmatic.

24 thoughts on “

  1. A truly ekphrastic poem, Sarah, which starts with scribbling and scratching and ends with a hush – light as a feather. I love the thought of ‘feathers cut like quills / to scribble the moon / out of the sky’ – that’s what we poets do!
    The image that stands out is:
    ‘one feather
    like a sunrise
    pink with hope
    like a freshly ironed blouse
    on the bus into town’.

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  2. All the feathers each telling their tales, each giving its history. It puts me in mind of list poems that describe things, like the blackbird poem. I have read this several times and each time, I am entranced more.

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