Answer:
What is light as a feather but even the strongest man cannot hold it for more than a few minutes?
I am in truth a yellow fork from tables in the sky by inadvertent fingers dropped the awful cutlery. Of mansions never quite disclosed and never quite concealed the apparatus of the dark to ignorance revealed.
I'm tall when I'm young and I'm short when I'm old. What am I?
I love to twist and dance. Though wingless I fly high up into the sky.
Tear me off and scratch my head what once red is now black.
No matter how little or how much you use me, you change me every month.