Moss Crossed Feathered Flights

Scraped off the south-side of Old Tumble Falls rigid rocks roll helpless down to an empty floor no more holding roost high amidst cliffs kept close final rays of her dying sun feathered below sphagnum moss drenching burnt souls held fast take more than they ever have gave Turning with tides and skies to carry over burdened thoughts of subsequently passing places left behind sightless eyes downcast shamelessly listen intently as a lone bluebird warbles a wistful departing song ruffled hawk feathers float aimlessly in the breeze and tomorrow's waterfall dreams slip silently away