The Black Feather

A single feather falls

Black as night without a star

Fine, supple bristles

With little sign of wear

The feather comes down

Slowly, without effect from wind

Falling from somewhere high above

Purposeless now, without its friends

Simply falling for the sake of falling

But upon landing, it is gripped.

Given new purpose from a face of wonder

A body of youth

A child’s simple smile

Holding this beautiful feather

With the wonders of the world held within.


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