Friday, October 21, 2016



A perfectly shaped feather
Waiting to be found
Brown, black, and deep burnt red
A pheasant's loss my gain

I proudly carry it
Keep it close
As continue walking Molly
A treasure found

Boyish curiosity awakens
In a simple discovery
Beauty and softness
In fading light of day

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
A feather I found walking Molly.

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