In the nest
With the unbroken egg
Somewhere between midnight and dawn
When the tickling, feathered fingers
Tousle my brain
These barbed doubts
Wind-blown thoughts
No longer sleek and smooth luminescent quills
Mere hollow straws
So light, with sponge density
Stripped of wax and oil
Neither waterproof nor warm
My worries flap
Might ruined feathers
fail in the autumn breeze?
by Christy Noel
12/19/05