Fareaa Usman Poet Free verse

The Bird

She was the knock on wet wood after a thunderstorm. 
Soft and muffled from the layers of dewdrops and tears from the heavens. 
Dark and frayed like the ashes of a split birch tree after a fire in the valleys. 

She was the feline, black enough to melt into the night, 
uncalled for, 
unrecognized, 
not desired for. 
A secret, kept within the chamber of not knowing. 
Not knowing where or who or how or why she was. 

She was the trust, broken and left unhemmed.
Naked and barebacked for the gods to shame. 
Unholy for the soul to flee from and the sinners to ravish. 

She wasnt one, she was of one. 
Of three or four or five,
Lost within a crowd of seekers, 
who sought only the feathers of a bird but not the creature on the inside.
Left to the world, alone, feeble, and frozen.

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Michael Vacek September 16, 2017 at 9:21 AM One bit of advice I give to new poets on this cite is: until you are established, sadly, people are drawn to your writing through curiosity. Thought provoking titles are one of the most important facets of sharing your gift. For this poem I would title it something cliche like "Birds of Feather Flock Together" or "Frayed Feathered Friend" or "Feathers to Flesh". You get the idea. The title prompts curiosity. You will reach a point where the title will not matter as you develop a following.

Michael Vacek September 16, 2017 at 9:04 AM Please keep writing. I look forward to seeing more. Vivid imagery. "Lost within a crowd of seekers who sought only the feathers of a bird, not the creature on the inside." In a world lacing introspection focusing instead on outward appearance. BRAVO Fareaa!