Soars and falls
like a coaster ride,
it climbs, then falls,
to climb and fall
once more.
No hurry, slow
then quick then slow
again, it wanders
listlessly,
here then there.
in gentle breeze,
it dances freely
and with ease,
it does a turn.
Fading light
helps the illusion,
the impression that
as it dances,
slow, slow,
quick quick
slow;
it does a waltz.
well said, i have seen many white feathers floating down from the sky, and you could not have said it any better, nice write.
The gentle melody plays a wind, and lonely white the feather dances in a wind to self-oblivion, very beautiful poems, Bob. Kindest regards, Tsira
your imagination waltzes in tune with the white feather you watch...the words soar fall and again climb, catching up the sight...good work, Bob...i liked...10
A waltzing feather somewhow a very poignant image... Somewhere in the distance I can hear the music. Ten for you. Kind regards, Sandra
How ironic that it was a white feather that was used as a symbol to demonize 'conscientious objectors' during World War II. Surely peace is worth passionate activism. Your poem is gentle and reflective. Your words sooth and uplift at the same time. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Fine observations by a poet who has the time to stand and stare.There is much to be said for getting old
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A feather in the wind! i like this one Bob