THE FEATHER

By Mele-Sia Sanchez

 

A feather was falling freely.

The feather was soft,

Its spirit was keenly,

Yet, the feather felt lost.

 

It drifted into a frightening breeze,

A breeze that is so malicious.

The feather was looked down on by the trees,

They were very suspicious.

 

The feather was unaware,

It lost freedom to the devil’s breeze.

The feather was so unaware,

It floated to death with ease.