Fallen Feather

White, well mostly,

bright, as night recedes to dawn’s entreaties,

Resting, softly lain upon the tide-moist shore.

Grains of sudsy sand,

rushing, gushing in with shifting tides,

flinging, clinging grains between my toes.

Leaning closer still,

beneath the feather, delicate and clean,

I spy the remnants of a furious scene.

Each day, at break of sun,

the fluttering flocks dramatically compete,

completing nature’s vast dramatic scheme.

A snow-white feather,

ingeniously designed, balanced and sublime;

Awesome, grand, exquisitely Divine.

Photo Friday: #white

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