Changing

The feather fluttered to the ground.

There was nothing special about it.

Not on the surface.

If you had looked closely, you might have noticed that the edges were golden.

No one ever looked too closely.

The feather was trampled on,

stomped on, and ran over

The breeze carried it away.

Soon it was picked up.

And later thrown away.

No one could have known that it was an angel's feather.

No one at all.


Time seemed fluid to her.

Her heart sometimes ached.

Eyes cast forever towards the sky.

Looking at the black night.

On top of a balcony's rail.

Wind rushing through her hair.

Standing on the edge.

Almost over, but not quite

Not by far.


It started in her back.

Sharp pains, like knives

the splitting of her shoulder blades

cries of agony in the night

she can feel them there

feathers shouldn't hurt


On the balcony again.

For the first time.

She looks up and sees..

Brightness in the distance.

Stepping over, her feet slip.

And then she's falling,

or flying.


The feather fluttered to the ground.

There was nothing special about it.

Not on the surface.

If you had looked closely, you might have noticed that the edges were golden.

No one ever looked too closely.

The feather was trampled on,

stomped on, and ran over

The breeze carried it away.

Soon it was picked up.

And later thrown away.

No one could have known that it was an angel's feather.

No one at all.