Lost feathers

Catch me like a feather blown high,
Amidst thousand wings I fly;
Strings of myriad strains that chord along,
Behold one spur of thoughtless desire.
Lurking swift on linen waves,
Dusks and dawns are aerial days.
Tidings from the merchant vessels,
sails drawn tight, from far away.
Dwindling high o’er the clouds,
Basking day on sunny morns,
Wind drifts the lights to mountain’s call
Sprightly plumes I lost them all.