Lay Me Down

I want to lay in the sun
and let my feathers dry.

To rest among this cluster of birch
where sounds of silence
know me not

to spend my time uncluttered
without words of sorrow
hidden from the scuff of turmoil

to feel your fingers caress my neck
the scent of you
a torment is distance from your soul.

And I breathe in your magnificence
your hair tickling my face
the memory of you

touching me.

© Richard L. Provencher