I’m thin as a whisper and sharp as a thought. I carry a tail but am never caught. I dive through cloth yet leave no wound, Binding what was once un-tuned. What am I?

A soft place to rest Take soft, remove the last Add a new letter now And you'll solve it somehow

A vertical path of steps, where each level climbs like a ladder, but without rungs. It carries you up and down, a zigzag dance inside buildings, yet not an elevator.

A dancer on the wind, slender as a pencil, breaks underfoot yet whispers secrets of the forest.

When a lumberjack gets fired, he loses this, whereas others actually get it.