Here is the feather
But already I have forgotten
The time and the place
That it entered my life
I do remember that I thought it to be
A native American Indian tradition
To bring security and joy
Into the wigwams and the teepees
I have an idea
That it could have been a monastery
A retreat to spirituality
Where events such as this could occur
And now my invaluable
If somewhat vulnerable breath
Blows it across the table
Requiring a moment of recovery
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