a white feather

a lone plow moves across a greying field an old ox pulls across it’s burden the farmer moves across the fat field his shoes etching into it’s belly of dirt and the world of his eyes, filled by the ox’s ass

the shepherd leads his flock under the scissors and under the knife in the rising of the sun a lone, trembling mark

above, the drunk indigo shimmers down, the sea wrinkles here, it dances carelessly with a shimmering wave a white feather with a drop of wax

across, the ship's sail rustles the mast-head rises to the sun one who knows the lift doesn’t think about the fall

the shepherd sings softly the sheep croak they’re response the sails clap the ox grunts the trees whistle, as they grow to the sun the rivers groan, as they flow to the sea

a bird lands on a branch takes the world through his eyes and flies since he didn’t understand above, the burnt ember rises down, the sea shivers here, it vanishes with a shimmering wave a white feather

damian bemben