White Feather

The heat has come and gone, and now
I return to the comfort of thick leather
with pockets that store a myriad thoughts.

Dreams left with the cool breeze and scattered
as the rains returned to fill the sky’s void.
Only I am empty since the balance changed.

To think that, in those moments with the sun,
I could have spoken. I should have confessed.
The stars would have echoed my voice as it shook.

How the world shone in honest green,
full of life like granary floor.
How I hid from the bright light of love.

Now, the heat has come and gone.
I return to the comfort of thick leather,
pockets that store a myriad thoughts.

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