A Feather In A Cyclone

It is hurled up to slate-coloured skies,
Twirled in buoyancies unreachable to man,
Passed on from droplet to droplet and back
Almost like a pendulum
Taking heavy clouts from a rasp cloudburst.
Sodden.
Battered.
Torpid.
Emasculate.
Plummeted to heavily-barked trees
And lie supine under leaves saturated by persistent rains
Taking hurried breaths,
Keeping its spinning head in place.
And as solace begins to settle in
The twister comes again and scoops it up and up and up.

by Stella Sisanda Qishi

Comments (4)

Up you go! To reach the furthest echelons of majestic poetry! Yuh's the best Stella.I'm honored to read the poems of wonderful imaginative power by you.Keep up the good work
...compact composition reach with thoughts....thanks
hey. This is rather good than wonderful. I'm a bit dry now but am liking it.
sometimes life moves so very fast and we feel as though we've given up all control, This is a powerful message with vast implications. wonderful work!