Feathers

Andrew R. Duckworth

There was a raven perched
On a fence post,
Calm and still.
It surveyed it’s surroundings,
Turned its scoping eyes to the sky
And peered into unknown spaces.
It longed for the unknown,
Spread its wings,
And dove into a sea of blue.
It took its flight
As we all must when it’s right,
When our time has come to fly.

And so I turned and began searching
For the feathers for my wings.