I placed the feather on the grave, black as death itself.
I had no other offering of goodbye to mark my visit with; no wildflowers nor blossoms bloomed in the field or roadside.
This lone feather left by some poor frightened bird was all I had to say my farewells,
yet as it stared mockingly at me from on the granite block,
I finally felt at peace.
YOU ARE READING
An Ocean Of Thoughts
PoetryNever be fooled; the quiet ones have a lot to say. So come with me on a journey, I really hope you stay. I want to show you the wondrous thoughts that float upon this sea and maybe when you're finished you'll understand the mind of a quiet girl like...
