Spitting Feathers
written by: Kim M. Russell
@kim88110
Between shingle beach
and salty lagoon,
marsh and reed bed,
feathered spirits,
soul-anchored
by ponderous words,
observe migrating birds
and hanker
to be free.
They long to sweep
above thorny thistles,
dart after insects in the air,
glittering lightning
across fields
and down lanes,
breaking over towns
and villages
like waves.
Petrochemicals
of centuries
clog their quills:
they are time-tattered,
myth-spattered,
tarred and feathered
with futility,
earth-tethered
gaseous ghosts.
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