I filled my pockets with my faults
until the contents spilled
like dried kernels of corn
on the ground
where they grew into tall stalks
that held seeds for the blackbirds.
Now I wear my failures
like feathers
woven in my hair.
Marie Elizabeth Sar lives a quiet life in Louisville, Kentucky. She writes poetry when an image torments her until she finds the words to describe it. Her poems fill a binder that she keeps in her basement. She is learning to wear feathers in her hair.