• EMPWR Contributor

Poetry: In Quarantine

"As I sat on coarse gravel, a feather fell to my foot."

By Daniel Durand


As I sat on coarse gravel, a feather fell to my foot.

Its intricacy excited me

Its vane cascaded up to a delicate point

That caved to the breeze

I rushed to pick it up as gravel grains

Clung to my shoe

Before the bank collapsed in my absence

And the gravel spewed

Upon my return to the gravel bank

I observed the mess

Littered stones begged for my atone

The bank became undressed

I looked at my red indented hands

With a scorn and a hiss

A worn feather now mangled

Within my clenched fist

For what was it worth

To feel freedom’s sky

When the gravel below

Is where I lie?



© 2020 by EMPWR

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