Photo by SMSmith
Ruffled
by SMSmith – 1987
“Birds of a feather …”
I hear no more
Ruffled
That mere appearance
Should stem inquiry.
The apparent face of vice
Turned upon
By just deserts.
Society passing
On Damascus road
The man
Wounded by himself.
The scarlet letter
Branded upon the soul.
The face of virtue
The priestly passer
The Dorian
Honored
(With pictures hidden
In the attic of a mind).
Feathers covering
Blood and bone and gut.
Feathered creatures
Of feathered virtue?
Of feathered vice?
Flocking to
Fashion, profession
Power, position
Possession, obsession.
“Birds of a feather …”
Words
Mocking
Concealing
Setting
Sealing by appearance.
Preceding, predestining
Protecting
Demeaning, destroying.
And I am ruffled
For I am feathered
Gathered with virtue's flock
Of seekers and pretenders.
Who is who?
Who am I?