I’m molting
Shedding haphazardly and with
intention
depending on the day
I’m curious
wondering what
will grow in next
Feathers jewel toned or silvered
Shiny scales smooth or gently textured,
inviting you to brush your fingertips
lightly across them
I’m musing on which
spells or incantations
learned or improvised
I might whisper or chant
to shape
my new incarnation
plain and bejeweled
soft and fluffy
lined and spotted
strong and supple
until I molt again
This metamorphosis is not for you
© 2024 by Betsy Rosenblatt Rosso




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