Nest

The Midas touch of emotions, happiness becoming solid and fixed. Also, the making of a place to call home. Often times, weaving is a necessary skill to have.  But it seems being able to fly is a more enviable feat.

 

The golden dust,

In bags by your knees;

The bulk,

Heavy

Rich blend,

 Poised

Honey

The glitter

To swallow

In motes

Of phosphenes;

Spiralling

Laughter

Blazed

Our bed, our

Nest,

Woven;

Stubborn roots

For rest

Mid-air

The down

Of feathers touching

Tip to tip –

The chirruping

Of us abreast

Calling in topaz

Skies skipped

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Author:

Amber R Walker, Hull, Creative Writer, Bookmaker, Lover of art

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