the feather
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i watch a feather drift through the breeze
like a cloud in the sky
it dances lazily through the wind
it’s in no rush
it has nothing to do
for it is a feather
and a feather is meant to just simply exist
i catch it between my thumb and forefinger
i twirl it around, feeling it brush against my skin
the feather does not care where it lands
or what becomes of it
for it is a feather and nothing more
the feather has no name
no legacy to leave behind
yet it does not care
for it is a feather and nothing more
a human can stay up night after night
but a feather cannot
a feather only drifts through the breeze and falls onto the ground
once one of many; a cohort of feathers with one mission
one mission that it has now failed
and now, it shall cease to exist
erased in time
remembered by no one
but it does not care
for it is and will forever be nothing more than a feather
and a feather was never meant to care anyway
