Back In The Day

Back in the day, 

When I was a few years old,

I beheld a feather flail,

Through the breeze biting and cold.

I darted through the field

To accompany it in flight,

We both stumbled together,

It was a fitting delight.

I clasped it in my tiny hands,

And mused as it would flutter,

I pressed it on my ears

To hear what it had to utter.

So obstinate it was, it was silent-

As the clouds above me flying 

It pushed my hands to glide again

And I let it soar again, sighing.