and feathers fell from the magnolia tree

[Kailashana]

A small dog
nips
the morning silence
and the street
comes alive
with hands

purpose
breaks
into fever,
something
to do, somewhere
to go,
hurry, hurry the day

I get despondent,
now and then,
this isn't the world
I wanted to imagine,
my sophistry
melding an ancient art

last night
we were Buddhas
trying on each other's masks,
we plunged into ecstasy,
we hovered like angels
above our bodies

and feathers fell from the magnolia tree.

~A

[dadio]

Powerful poem, Anna.