Fans and feathers flutter
flutepipes scutter
buttering the air.
Stuttering.
Fish bones seek asylum in the great black bird
on the edge of the shore,
except we plucked his feathers out
and used them for ourselves.
Smiling, muttering
faces leer, puttering,
sputtering in dance,
stuttering.
7 comments:
I like this a lot!!!! :)
Amazing poem, Maria. Amazing.
wow. thats rly gd!!!! (sry 4 da tesxt talk, im in a rush)
Is it just a coinscidence (I hate this word) that you chose African feathers? Because the poem didn't refer to the continent I think. So the title could be New Caledonian Feathers or Kiribati Feathers etc...
Having problems with this one. The picture disturbs me but the style enthralls.
Haha thanks everyone!
Ropi: the reason it's called African Feathers is because I based it off a painting of an African dancer. The bird was in the background.
I see.
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