Feathers

Let us have wings feathered -

Small people, big people, all sorts of individuals -

Taking flight to the wind, to the world

And we'll fly, fly, and fly.

Let them be of all kinds of colors,

Muddy brown, speckled white, bright blue, pitch-black -

And oh! Wouldn't that be so lovely?

Mine would be pale orange

With streaks of amber (entwining veins of brown)

Like the color at sunset.

When it is cold, our wings will insulate us,

Shield us from the rain, snow, and sleet.

Lovers will embrace with arms and feathers;

They will fly in courtship, weaving and spiraling into the sky.

We  will stuff our pillows of our molted feathers,

Giggle and play hide-and-seek within the trees.

How will we sleep? Maybe it's different for everyone.

Some will sleep wrapped up in fluffy appendages,

And others will sleep upside-down like bats!

The world will be full of scattered feathers,

Lovely feathers (that some will secretly collect)

That line the streets, classrooms, work places, and homes.

No need for cars, or airplanes. We will just fly,

Glide, soar, flutter.

Oh, but what a pain it would be to clean....