Please - when I can no longer- with my companions- Catch the breeze And lift, lift, lift- Glide and sweep- Glide and sweep Across the skies. When I can no longer fly - Please have the eyes to see my exquisite beauty Laid out before you as never before.
Thanks Becky! It was great to spend a little time with you today. Wonderful work you guys are doing there at GG. Hope someday to see your own work!!! Love show and tell!!!
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Dianne
11/23/2011 04:29:46 am
The feathers are a bit worn and fragmented, much like life itself. The pale colors connote something washed out, not quite the vitality it used to be. However, the feathers are overlaid on a map, that suggests that there are further voyages ahead.
The poem is simple but lovely. I don't quite see that it compliments the photo, though, as the feathers look like they've been discarded and are no longer able to "soar the skies."
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Nancy Lindquist
11/25/2011 12:15:41 pm
Damaged...discarded...imagine the stories they could tell. Perhaps I will expand the poem to include this idea. Thanks Dianne.
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Nancy Lindquist
Frail beauty tracker.
Sometimes I go about pitying myself, and all the time I am being carried on great winds across the sky. (Anonymous, Chippewa Indian)