Archive for January 22nd, 2019

Tuesday, 22 January 2019

Feathers by Leo Vroman

Women have twisted wings,
they sadly finger their sky.
Where chickens would smilingly fly
they sit and flutter at things.

When their withered feathers fall
cold makes women think
and sadnesses cover us all
and feathers, scented with pink.

Bald wings, revealing old skin,
are tender to behold
as the ivory membranes unfold
with a spray of fishbones within,
when the aged women die
and soar like blushing bats
clad in coats and battered hats
to obliterate the sky.


Date: 1950

By: Leo Vroman (1915-2014)