Feather In The Wind

By Devadri Bhattacharya

Chained to the screen

In a, malodorous room of a,

Flat grey noon on a,

Bed with stubs, flinching

At the quilt feather, in a daze I’ve never

Looked at the feather,

Drifting further from its,

Quilt mother to the, open skies

And the, world full of

Folks stuck with their,

Dead end chores and

Hungry families.

Free and away from its,

Own kind but it,

Broke away from one,

To be free like the

Wind and seas as we,

Want to believe.

Only now do we,

See the quill dancing,

To the beat of the

Tainted wind in our,

World unfree.

By Devadri Bhattacharya