NPM Day 30 {Rocks & Feathers}

Rocks & Feathers
April 27, 2017


The lowest tides bring the highest pain,
she is reminded on the shore
of stones smooth and cold, and sits
to let the frigid waters wash her feet.
Wind ruffles red tendrils of hair,
rattles the anxiety caging her heart,
and a murky sunset catches all
the blue from watering eyes.
She blinks until the sky is gray,
letting waves of salty atmosphere
dry tears and clear off the seagulls.
This hurt cannot be smoothed out
and left upon the winnowing beach
among shells and gentle driftwood.
We cannot know the history of things,
how large or small a creation came
from a pebble, a branch, a leaf.
We are all just rocks and feathers.
She sees all that's been forgotten,
sandy remnants of other shores, things
which tell no stories of former greatness.
And as the night air rushes downward
it carries her, and she knows,
she could have been a mountain,
and she could have been a bird.