I plucked chickens in the back yard
Boiling water softened the quills
Dead foul feel no pain
Poetically I “extract the plumage”
Either way you say it
Those peelings gotta go
Years go by
My layers live
Peel ever gently
I feel the burn
dversepoets.com Monday quadrille. The prompt word is ‘peel’. Exactly 44 words excluding the title.
I like the last line about feeling the burn.
LikeLike
Mary what a powerful image to parallel God’s pruning in our lives. Have a blessed night. If I may ask for prayer Mary, I speak Wednesday night to lead our Ash Wednesday service. I welcome any prayer I will obey the Master without delay or distraction.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Julie, and yes, you got it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are most welcome sister!
LikeLike
Naked chickens can’t hide anything!
LikeLike
Even your format of line length peeled away and grew smaller. Cool…well done. A meaningful poem that also pleased the eye.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is something I have never done… dead fowls feel no pain, but it takes a bit of fiber to manage the peeling of chickens.
LikeLike
My interpretation of this was a much deeper metaphor about being present, enlightened, aware vs. numbed. Not sure if that was the message. I really enjoyed the unique analogies.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good observation! Thank you!
LikeLike