Monday, June 8, 2015

Molt



In spring you shed
mad winter growth;
wonder plumage
enviable by any bird.

Rite of passage
ushers in your time
of seasonal regeneration,
hints of immortality.

Dust hangs in the air.
Mound of shavings on the floor.
A glance in the mirror leaves
you barely recognizable.

You emerge shorn,
pale and summer-ready,
protected by nothing but expectancy
and your skin.


tk/June 2015



Elegant read by R.A.D. Stainforth...





11 comments:

  1. A really great piece I must say!

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  2. Seasonal regeneration - yes, we're all experiencing it.

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  3. enviable by any bird !!! love that... and the sweetness of that piece !

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  4. I adore that photo. Wonderful writing.

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  5. I really like the shedding of plumage.. I think I will soon do the same at some beach :-)

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  6. I feel this way every year too it never changes even in sunny CA. Maybe a little too naked Tess? Lol! Enjoy your week, big hug!

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  7. ah yes....the shedding of over growth!

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  8. He walked in via The Flaming Door

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  9. Ah yes, every single fallen shaving, definitely worthy of possessing.

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)